


1971

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Friendship, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 20:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5941888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

`You're it,' Bran said, slapping Remus soundly on the back and dancing a few steps away. Remus grinned, and lunged forward, catching his younger brother by his shirt sleeve.

`Am not.' Remus had the sense to put some real distance between them, and put his hands on his hips. `Bran, come on. Chase me.'

`Not fair,' the boy whined, but obeyed, his thin little arms pumping as he ran. Remus, taller by two inches and older by three years, quickly gained a substantial lead. He heard Bran calling out behind him, but ignored it; they were safe in this part of the woods.

The sunlight was wan and without warmth today. It was only early autumn, but even in the countryside they were feeling the cold encroaching more quickly than usual. Remus was nine, and old enough to remember better years. The summer of 1971 had been particularly bad. Remus had done what he could to keep little Bran from noticing the chill that had begun to stem from their parents-- mostly by keeping him outside, playing at innocent games in the nearby woods. Their parents barely noticed their absence.

It was approaching supper time when Bran began to slow down, tiring of their games and becoming sullen. Remus dropped back to sit with him beneath an old oak, and offered the apple he'd been keeping inside his jumper. The six year old was noticeably more perky after he tossed away the core, and together they began to slowly make the trek back to their house.

It was the whining that caught Remus's attention. Bran stopped when he did, and took his brother's hand. `Let's go look,' Remus said.

`Let's not. I'm hungry.'

But the older boy had already taken a step toward the low keen. `It's an animal. Maybe it's hurt.'

`Mum said not to touch strange animals,' Bran retorted mulishly. `Reemy!' He stumbled into a run to catch up as Remus bounded off through the prickly bush. `Oy!'

Remus slowed only when he found the source of the whimpers. It was hard to see in the deepening dusk, but the large lump of slowly shifting fur was most definitely an animal. `Bran, look,' he called softly. He took a step forward, moving around a fallen branch. `It's in pain...'

Bran panted behind him, his small, fair head lowered in anxiety. `Don't get too close.'

`It can't harm us. Look, it can barely move.' Remus was close enough to see the eyes now, wide and unblinking in the long and dog-like face. He held out a hand. `It's all right, boy. Hold still.'

`Remus.'

`It's a wolf!' Remus knelt, and carefully ran his hand over the stiff, bristly fur on the animal's flank. The head turned to watch him, and the rib cage shivered in a quick inhalation, but it lay still. `I didn't know there were any wolves in Britain.'

`I want to go home.' Bran tugged on Remus's shoulder. `Please.'

`We can't just leave him here. There's no blood... maybe he's sick.' Forgetting to be wary, Remus glanced up. It was nearly night now, but the moon was full and its light was especially strong. `He's too big to carry. Maybe we could-`

`It's moving!'

Bran's shriek hadn't registered before the warm body beneath his hand twisted, and the wolf attacked him. Teeth sank into his arm, but what he felt was the pressure, the incredible crushing pressure of a fully grown wolf's powerful jaws. He knew his arm was broken in the split second it took for the wolf to bowl him over, and then the teeth were in his throat, and it happened so fast. The pressure again, and he knew he was dead; something thick and liquid was in his mouth and his nose and his lungs, he was choking. Bran. Bran, run.

The wolf was off him then, and it was quiet, except for the sounds of his own wet breaths. He was sobbing, and it hurt. He rolled onto his stomach and tried to spit it out, the stuff stopping him from breathing, but there was so so much of it.

Bran screamed.

Remus tried to stand, but dizziness overwhelmed him, and he fell back to one knee. His eyes burned, his throat- he wrapped a hand over his throat, so sticky and dripping- he forced himself to move, gagging on his own blood.

He couldn't hear Bran anymore. The wolf was back.

It circled him once, sniffed at him. Remus shook with something, didn't know if the wet on his face was tears or something else. He was cold now. He hugged his arm to his chest, his hand to his throat. He was going to die.

The howl was the last thing he heard.


	2. Prologue

'Potter, you better hurry, or the train might actually leave without you this year!'

James waved to the black-haired boy hanging out the window. `I'll be in!' He turned back to his parents, and accepted the bagged lunch his mother tearfully offered. `It's going to be just fine, Mum,' he comforted her, quickly hugging her. `I'll write as soon as I get there. And I promise to eat a big dinner and not too many sweets on the train. And Sirius and I will stay out of trouble.'

`I just worry, Jamie.' She smoothed his hair and smiled a quavering smile.

`It's my third year! It's all downhill from here.'

`Potter! Come on, already!'

His mother received a kiss, his father an embrace, and James was off, letting out a whoop as he leapt from the platform to the train. `See you Christmas!' he yelled, and waved as the train shifted into movement.

Sirius, suddenly tall but still brown as ever, was there with a huge bear hug as James rolled his trunk into the same compartment they'd ridden in every year. Then, they'd been timid, shy with each other and afraid of mis-stepping. Not this year. They had a reputation to uphold. Within minutes they were sprawled on the seats among every- flavour beans and Muggle magazines featuring women not wearing as much as decent women ought to, and it was as if summer separation had never happened. James couldn't help but beam. It was good to be going back to Hogwarts.

`Think we can get the same dorm?' Sirius compared the card from his chocolate frog to his existing collection. `I think I left some stuff behind that loose brick.'

`I wouldn't be surprised.' James reluctantly decided not to test the odd greyish bean, and put it back in the box.

`Let's try to meet with Elliott and Nigel before the feast. We want to have good roommates.'

Their door opened, surprising them into straighter postures. A boy stood there, his face blank as he registered that the compartment was occupied. He sighed, and mumbled something that passed as an apology.

`Hey,' James called after him, rising and jumping to the door. `Come back! We've got room!'

`Jamie,' Sirius hissed.

`Well, we do,' the taller boy bit back. `Come on in. Let me help you with that.' He grabbed the handle of the boy's cauldron, waving away the boy's clutching hands, and set it on the bench beside Sirius. `I'm James Potter, and this is Sirius Black. What's your name? Are you new?'

`Remus Lupin.' The boy was smaller than either of them- a first year. He had not moved from the doorway. Despite the exceptional warmth of the lingering summer season, Remus Lupin wore a high turtleneck, and curled his fingers around the hems of the long sleeves that covered his hands. His light hair had the look of a fresh cutting; it stuck out oddly on the right side.

`Sit down.' James demonstrated by flopping on his bench. `We're in Gryffindor. Where d'you reckon you'll be sorted?' He smiled encouragingly.

Remus slowly sat. `My mother and father are both Ravenclaw,' he said. `They say I will be, too.'

`Ravenclaw,' Sirius repeated dubiously.

Remus nodded, his hair slipping forward to hide his eyes as he bowed his head. He didn't seem thrilled.

`Well, not always,' James said, shooting a look at Sirius. `There're these two brothers, Irish they are, and they're different as night and day and one's in Hufflepuff and the other's Gryffindor, like us. So maybe there's hope. You don't want to be in Ravenclaw?'

`Well... not especially, I guess.' He looked up. `It just sounds like it might be more... fun... somewhere else.'

`Well, you haven't done too bad for being only half a foot in,' James grinned. `Anyway, you're ahead of the others, you've already got friends. You've got us. We'll look out for you; won't we, Sirius?' Remus looked as if he could use some friends, and James had always said his friendship was free to anyone who needed it.

Sirius did not reply. He seemed absorbed in his magazine.

James lifted a shoulder, as if to say "What can you do?" `So, tell me. D'you like Quidditch?'

`I guess so,' Remus said. A little colour finally infused his face as he sat forward. `I mean, I look forward to the school competition. My uncle is a big fan and he said the school teams are excellent now.'

`They sure are!' James thumped his chest. `I'm Seeker for Gryffindor. We beat Ravenclaw last year, and they were the best for years and years running!'

`You're Seeker? That's really cool. Do you have your own broom?'

James sighed. `Not yet. But I'm saving up for it! I did some work this summer for my pop, and I earn the odd bit here and there during the school year.' He winked.

Remus took the bait, not hearing Sirius's sceptical snort. `How? I mean, I didn't know that they offered jobs during school.'

`Not "jobs," exactly,' James deadpanned. `Y'see... You have to know where to look, and know who needs what and how to get it. Nothing underhanded or evil,' he hastened to assure the younger boy. The look of incredulity on the kid's face was too tempting. `But it doesn't hurt. I could cut you in on it, if you like. All you need is a spirit of adventure.'

`And a streak of insanity in your family,' Sirius added, finally joining the conversation. `I'd stay away if you don't want to be constantly up in the Headmaster's office. The last one was pretty rough. Dumbledore's all right. He's strict, but he enjoys a good prank as much as any bloke.'

Whatever spark had started in Remus died at the mention of the new Headmaster. Surprised, James stared at him.

`Well,' he said slowly. `Tell us about yourself. Where you from?'

`Monmouth,' was the subdued reply.

`That's Wales, yeah?' James nudged the boy's leg. `I've a cousin up there. He says it's a great place. Keeps trying to get me out there.'

`It's all right.'

`Say something in Welsh,' Sirius suddenly commanded. His eyes were impossible to read as he stared at the younger boy.

Remus turned red. `I-`

James saved him, by throwing a box of every-flavours at Sirius. `Don't be a prat.' He tried to give his best friend a long look of warning. Sometimes Sirius was absolutely insupportable.

`It was an honest curiosity,' Sirius grumbled. He picked beans out of his lap. He did not look away from Remus, who was looking anywhere but back.

`What's your family? Do you have sibs at Hogwarts? I don't remember, what's your name again? Loopy?' James dispelled the tension by drawing the attention back to himself. There would be time later to bring Sirius to task.

`Lupin. It's just me.' Remus hunched his shoulders. `I had a brother. He- won't come.'

James passed the rest of the time discussing which classes Remus would have, which teachers to avoid, which pranks had made the two older boys famous; which boys were friendly and which girls were okay, which prefects to obey and which rules were meant to be broken. Remus was an eager student for his wisdom, and even responded with enthusiasm at times. Sirius added a comment once or twice, as if he felt compelled to set the record straight, but kept mostly silent, unhappy with the intruder in their train.

`First years go across the lake,' James said finally. `You'd better get your robe on. All other years go all the way to the castle, so we have some extra time.'

Remus obeyed, standing and taking out a thick woolen robe from his cauldron. `What's the Sorting like?'

`You'll see, you'll see,' James grinned.

`Don't want to spoil it your first time through,' Sirius added reluctantly. `It's really something.'

`Did you know you would be a Gryffindor, Sirius?'

Sirius suddenly grinned. `Of course I did. You can always tell a Gryffindor.'

Remus lost his smile. James kicked at Sirius, frowning deeply in reproval. Sirius made a face, but was forestalled from saying anything by the train slowing to a halt.

`This is it, then,' James said. `Want help with that?' He reached again for the boy's cauldron.

`No. I've got it.' Remus held it close to him, his hands wrapped so tightly around the handle that his knuckles turned white. `Thanks for everything.' He turned grey eyes up to James, and it wasn't hard to see the uneasiness in them.

James laid a fatherly hand on the boy's shoulder. `Listen, don't be nervous about the Sorting. Or what House you get. You've already made friends, haven't you? And you are who you are- the Hat'll know where you really belong, family or no.'

He received a tremulous smile, and then Remus was gone as quietly as he'd come in.

James flopped back to his seat. `You were rude,' he accused Sirius.

`I was fine. I just didn't see why you had to invite him in here. We haven't seen each other all summer and you go and spend the whole time coddling him.'

`He's nice.'

`He's needy. He'll be attached t'your hip all year and I'll be tripping over him.'

James shrugged equably. `Peace, peace. Anyway, maybe he'll make Gryffindor. Wouldn't be half bad, and just think. He'd be the perfect straight man. No professor could look at that face and put him in detention.'

Sirius snorted and buried his face in an article.

`You just don't like change.'

Professor Asper greeted them at the train, looking dour and pale as usual. He herded them along with flicking hands and a narrow-eyed squint. `Hurry up, then. We're all hungry. The sooner we get in, the sooner we can eat.'

`How do the first years look, Professor?' James called.

`Wet and scared,' Asper retorted. `Same as you did two benighted years ago.'

`Hope he didn't fall in,' James muttered to Sirius.

Remus Lupin might as well have, judging by the condition of his robe as he trailed in, the last of the first years by several metres. James waved from the Gryffindor table, but Remus didn't see him. The boy seemed entranced by the magical ceiling; he barely spared a glance for the rest of the hall.

Asper held out the hat, and began to call out names. James nudged Sirius as little Amy Babcock was announced Hufflepuff- she was the youngest daughter of his mother's best friend from her Hogwarts' days. Sirius cheered for the three boys and two girls who were declared Gryffindor all in a row. Then:

`Lupin, Remus.'

James let out a cheer, and waved again. This time Remus seemed to see him, and James thought he saw a small and tired smile as the boy climbed the stool, and accepted the hat.

`He'll make Gryffindor,' James muttered to Sirius. `Look at him. Brave as a beaver.'

`A beaver?'

` **Slytherin!** '

Remus looked stricken as he slipped off the stool and handed the hat to the next boy. Sirius's eyebrows were nearly in his hairline; James did not cheer this time. He watched as Remus was greeted by his housemates. It was a long minute before he collected himself enough to flash a thumbs-up.

`It's not his fault,' he told Sirius, trying to sound firm. `He is what he is.'

`And he's a Slytherin.'

`So? It's Ravenclaw we have to worry about. Maybe this is better.'

`Just because Ravenclaw is the hottest competition for the cup doesn't mean we want to be fraternizing with Slytherins, Jamie!'

`Leave off him. There are nice Slytherins.'

`I'm sure there are nice trolls, too, but you don't defend them.'

Not for first time, James wished Sirius didn't feel the need to be so sarcastic when he was right.

At the head of the hall, Professor Dumbledore was standing. He waved for quiet, and began his address.

`It is a new year,' he said. His voice was fuzzy and warm, and he was smiling. His long hair, auburn with streaks of grey, was curled around a finger as he spoke. `And though we are not new friends, there is a new situation at hand...'

`Is that Malfoy he's sitting next to?' James worried.

`Give him up for good, if it is.' Sirius elbowed James's ribcage. `Little Missy Malfoy'll waste no time badmouthing us.'

`Well, there really was no call to switch his shampoo for dye. That green was putrid.'

`I can't help it if he's got a natural proclivity for sliminess.'

`Let the feast begin,' called Dumbledore, and then the noise of hundreds of students clamouring for food drowned out their conversation.

It was a good year to be Slytherin. The Hat had sorted more new years into their House than any other this term, and it might mean good things in terms of the Championship. It smarted Lucius Malfoy that Slytherin had achieved last place his own first year. He wasn't destined to be a loser; the House needed some fresh blood. Crabbe and Goyle, looking greasy and particularly stupid as they watched the Sorting without interest, filled Lucius with disgust. Scientific proof of the dangers of inbreeding. Even the eldest of wizarding families turned out a few genetic disasters per century.

Lucius listened closely to the names of each new student. He noted who was sorted where, and was pleased to note that most of the Mudbloods ended in other houses. Those few who made Slytherin would be ostracized.

`Lupin, Remus.'

Lupin- old money. Fallen on lean times by all accounts. Welsh- one couldn't have everything. Lucius called to mind the face of a thin, spaniel-nosed man; rare attendee of his own father's parties, but he knew the face from the old Hogwarts yearbooks his parents had made him memorise. The newest scion was lucky enough to have inherited his mother's looks, apparently, though he had the old man's sad eyes. Lucius cheered with reserved dignity as Lupin joined them- weren't his parents Ravenclaw? Not so bad as Hufflepuff or, God forbid it, Gryffindor stock- and shoved Goyle far enough away for the skinny first year to sit beside him.

`I'm Lucius Darling Malfoy,' he announced, and held out his hand. `Welcome to Slytherin.'

`Hallo,' was the subdued reply. Lupin's palm rested in his for less than three seconds before it disappeared into the folds of his robe. He looked a bit piqued. Lucius wasted no more time with him, for the moment- the Sorting wasn't through yet and his father would be expecting a report. Unfortunately, Slytherin gained no more real treasures. They had a Lestrange- all of them shifty-eyed peasants- and a Nott. The last to their side was the youngest Snape, who looked at no one as he joined the table and ignored the rest of the proceedings.

`Let the feast begin,' called Dumbledore, and then the noise of hundreds of students clamouring for food drowned out his head count.

`Well, eat something,' Lucius ordered Lupin, who made no move to. Irritated, Lucius took the boy's plate and filled it, smacking Crabbe's hand away from the choicest pieces of meat and the largest dumpling. He dropped the plate before Lupin, who jumped as gravy splashed over the edge. `What's wrong with you?'

Lupin picked up his fork. `I'm fine.' He speared a cutlet, but seemed to turn green around the gills. He turned abruptly to Lucius, who was making short work of his own plateful. `There's been a mistake,' he said urgently.

`A mishtake?' Lucius swallowed.

`I'm not supposed to be in Slytherin!'

Lucius thumped his own silverware against the edge of the table. `Not supposed to be in Slytherin? What are you on about?'

Lupin grabbed his arm. `Please. There has to be someone who can- do something about this. I'm not supposed to be Slytherin. I'm- I'm Ravenclaw, or something. This can't possibly be right.'

The older boy peeled off the clutching fingers one by one. `Look,' he said, trying to make his voice sound kind, and mostly failing. `The Hat is never wrong. Obviously you're a Slytherin, though if you're going to be a whiner I might considering going to the Headmaster myself. What's your glitch?'

But Lupin had gotten the message, and Lucius didn't wait for an answer in any case. What was wrong with parents these days? Couldn't raise a child with a proper spine. And not supposed to be Slytherin! As if he weren't damn lucky.

Lucius spent the rest of the feast re-acquainting himself with the rest of his House, and establishing a few tentative alliances that would get him through the first few weeks, until he knew better the lay of the land. He took the time to thoroughly chat up Beatrix Snape, who was ignoring her own brother and concentrating on showing off her liberation from braces. Lucius had to admit to himself that her smile wasn't so nauseating anymore, though in his flattery he was much more generous. Perhaps she wouldn't be a spinster after all. And Alfred Halfstaff had been promised a spot on the Slytherin Quidditch team this term, and had used the summer to grow his ego nearly large enough for a second personality. Lucius added a few harmless compliments and hinted that the Malfoy funds might be persuaded to invest in team brooms.

And then the feast was largely over, and there were massive yawns from the elder years who were busy trying to look jaded and unimpressed with the proceedings, and a fever-pitch of excited chatter from the first years who could barely contain themselves. Beatrix, who was sure to be the most annoying Prefect in the history of Hogwarts, gave nasal instructions to form a queue. The vicious jostling for best position that followed was as fun as always. Lucius earned first place, with Goyle backing him up and rudely shoving other contenders out of the way. He held his head high as he followed Beatrix, and didn't look back as he left the Hall.

`I'm Severus,' said a voice softly in his ear.

Remus, who was trying desperately to learn a few landmarks, gave himself up for lost and turned. `Remus,' he replied, and pressed the hand that was offered to him. `Are you a first year?'

`Yes.' Severus was much taller than him, but the advantages ended there. He was very homely, with what might be politely described as an unfortunate nose and an even more unfortunate hair style. Uninspired black hair hung in a straight curtain right down to his eyebrows and appeared to have been cut with a bowl. His eyes were black and squinted, even behind the thick lenses that seemed to magnify them to twice their normal size. He had big feet.

Remus hung back deliberately from the rest of the queue, and Severus fell into step with him. They were several levels down, now- the stairs had left him out of breath, and his chest ached, though they had not hurried. The Prefect seemed to be more engaged in giving a tour of Slytherin memorabilia than in getting them straight to their rooms. He didn't know if it were his imagination, but with each stair case traversed it seemed to grow colder. Slytherin lived in the old dungeons, his mother had told him once. Far away from the sun. From everyone else in Hogwarts. He felt like the walls were closing in on him already and prayed, despondently, for a window.

Slytherin. It was like a punishment. Dumbledore had said nothing about putting him in Slytherin.

`Severus?' he asked, hating the squeak in his voice. `What- what did the Hat s-say to you?'

Light reflecting of the thick glasses prevented him from seeing the taller boy's eyes as they turned toward him. `What do you mean?'

Remus rubbed his arms through the wool of his robe, suppressing a few shivers. `Did it- say something? Anything? During the Sorting?'

`It said it remembered my sister.' Severus hesitated. `It... it also said... ` He glanced ahead, to make sure they were far from the others. He said, `It told me I could accomplish much in Slytherin. That it would help me find what I was looking for, being in that House.' He fell silent, obviously thinking deeply on this. `I'm not entirely sure what that means yet,' he added, with surprising candor. `Why do you ask? What did it say to you?'

Remus pretended not to have heard, and hurried to catch up with the others, who had finally reached a cold metal door that must be their destination. The Prefect was waiting, crossly, for them.

`Now listen carefully, for I'm not saying it twice,' she told them all sternly. `The password to get in is "The Haunted Wizard." You can't get in without it. Don't repeat it to anyone, and don't forget it. If you do, no one's going to help you, got it?'

`She's full of it,' a boy ahead of them whispered. `Beatrix got locked out a million times her first year. She'd still be standing here if we hadn't made her write it on her hand.' The group of Slytherins shuffled forward slowly, forced to enter the dungeon one by one, as Beatrix was standing like a guard gargoyle right in the way. Remus saw Lucius squeeze in with the huge boys he'd been sitting with at the table, and wondered suddenly who he would have to room with.

`This is the common room,' the Prefect announced. `You can study here or hang around, but don't make a mess and don't damage anything you can't fix. No food in here, either.'

Remus caught sight of several cobwebs lining the low ceiling. The room was as pleasant as it could be made to be, which wasn't saying much. There were new tapestries hanging on all the walls, and the mythical beasts all dying messily under the spears of Mugglish hunters stopped to growl at the students. There was blocky, heavy looking furniture: several sofas and ottomans, and tables with cheery tablecloths in bright green checkered patterns. There were several petrol ovens, all glowing softly and emitting welcome warmth. But the common room was still part of a dungeon, and only a barely disguised part at that. The ceiling was made of rusty metal, as the hidden walls must have been as well, and a smell of mould hung stickily in the air. Remus coughed into his sleeve, only barely resisting the urge to cry. Surely this was a mistake.

`First room: Cherryh, MacEammon, and Fiddle,' Beatrix decreed. She was moving briskly along, and stood pointing to the left with an absolutely rigid arm. `This, you will notice, is the girls' side. If I catch any boys there, they will be strictly punished. Second room: Keene, Salvator, and Weismer. Third room: myself, Arachne, and Jindia.'

`This is the worst part,' Severus said to him. `The first night.' His eyes were nervously roaming the room.

`To the right is the boys' side. If I catch any girls, you had better be able to give me a good reason. First room: Malfoy, Goyle, and Crabbe.'

Remus hoped for a wild instant that Malfoy might look back for him; but the blonde second year did not. It wouldn't have been so bad to room with him.

`Second room: Roth, Tollery, and Snape.'

No luck there, even. Severus cast him a disappointed look, and scuffed off with his head bowed. He met up with two older-looking boys, and together they disappeared down the hall.

Beatrix had been continuing during their departure, and Remus only came to himself when he heard his name. He was forced to raise his hand; burning in embarrassment, he asked, `Pardon, I didn't he- hear- what room?'

The Prefect glared at him. `Fifth,' she retorted. `Would you like me to walk you to it?'

He flushed. `No, ma'am.'

`Get moving.' She released him from her sights and made some show of forgetting him entirely. `Sixth room.'

Remus found the hallway already deserted, but could hear voices behind a few of the doors. He stopped at the one with a "5" emblazoned on a little plaque, and laid a hand on the cold metal. It swung open noiselessly at his touch.

The room had only one bed, and his trunk and cauldron sat at the end. There was an oven, already lit, and someone had thoughtfully turned down the comforter.

Remus returned to the common room, and nearly stumbled into Beatrix as she made to turn toward the girls' side. `Wait!' he exclaimed.

She looked down her nose at him, and he knew, miserable with the knowledge, what she saw when she looked at him: a snivelling, short little boy who cringed and kept his eyes on his feet. He wouldn't have liked himself either.

`I d-don't seem to have any room mates,' he choked.

`What? Speak up.'

He raised his voice a costly fraction. `I don't have any room mates.'

`You would be Lupin.' She gave a put-upon sigh. `Seems like **someone's** parents pulled a few strings. What are you complaining for? Get to bed. Or at least let me get to mine.'

No room mates. Slytherin. Remus hated Hogwarts.

The room was far too large for just himself, and there was not a window. There were thick tapestries tacked onto the walls, worn a little thin in some places. Remus was thankful that at least there were no people in the weavings, for he would have found watchful eyes unbearable in the grimly silent space. A bird in the one over his bed ruffled its feathers and gave a sleepy squawk, but no other animals appeared. He unpacked his trunk and laid out all his books on the squat, much-used bureau, and found that his schedule had appeared taped to his mirror. Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts, History and-

And Potions. With Gryffindor.

James and Sirius. Remus caught his breath in a sudden fierce rush of gratitude.

But no. They were third years. He wouldn't be seeing them after all. How much use would his "friends" be if he were never able to see them? **Why** couldn't he have just been braver? Surely then the Hat would have placed him in Gryffindor...

But no. The Hat had said-

What did he care what the Hat had said? It was just a stupid piece of animated felt. Dumbledore would know what to do. There had to be something to do.

Remus laid on his bed, transfixed by the sight of a spider building a cobweb in a far corner, her work quite visible in the light of the stove. It kept him from crying. He wanted to go home so hopelessly that it was making him cough, and the last, buggered last thing he need was to make himself sick on his first night. He was concentrating so hard on not thinking that the knock startled him out of his wits.

He scrambled off the bed, tripping in the deep green pools of the velvet bed curtains, and grabbed for the lock. `Who is it?' he called automatically; but he was already opening the door.

Severus stood on the other side, dressed in his pyjamas already and looking decidedly uncomfortable. `May I come in?'

As if he had to ask. Remus had already stepped aside. Severus took his welcome and went immediately to the stove as the other boy shut the door.

`You don't have room mates,' Severus said, astonished.

`I know,' Remus replied miserably. `I don't know why.'

The taller boy was regarding him thoughtfully. `You're rich,' he guessed. His tone became doubtful. `Old wizarding family. But you'd have to be. Not even Malfoy has his own room.' He suddenly cracked a smile. `Though if he finds out you have one, he'll be begging his daddy for a bigger and better one as soon as possible.'

Remus barely heard. The way Severus had said `Rich'-- a dark mix of suspicion and criticism- made him fear losing the only person in all of Slytherin who had spoken more than two nice words to him. `We were never that rich,' he hurried to explain. `And it's all gone now anyway.' Between the crackpot cures and his parents' crackpot investments, Remus had never even had new things until the trip to Diagon Alley.

Severus seemed to accept that. `My two- Tollery and Douglas- they're fourth years. They were supposed to get someone else, I guess.' He held his hands out to the stove, though the room was quite warm. `Sorry to be a bother,' he added bitterly.

Remus tugged at his sleeves. `I'm sorry.'

`Who cares what they think.' Severus turned. `I don't need any coddling.'

Remus believed it. Severus had a dignity that gave him authority; a self-containedness that was unusual in an eleven-year-old boy. Though Remus did not know it, he had the same air; a shield against loneliness, and a certain mein of mystery. But it was enough for Remus that this boy seemed to- if not care for him, then at least not despise him.

`What did the Hat say to you?' Severus asked suddenly. `You never told me.'

He started. `The Hat?'

The other boy invited himself onto the bed, and leaned back against the headboard. Remus quickly climbed up with him, tucking his legs beneath him and grabbing his cardigan to wrap around himself.

`The Hat. What did it say.'

Remus worried at his lower lip while he arranged the edge of the much- darned wool. `That I had all the qualities of a Slytherin.' It wasn't quite a lie, though it wasn't the whole truth. " **Smart enough for Ravenclaw, loyal enough for Hufflepuff. Braver than you think, which as a package could make you Gryffindor. But you keep secrets too well, Remus Lupin, and I think we need to see where that will take you.** " And then, with a dry sort of compassion, the worst of it had come: " **Don't be so disappointed.** "

A sudden coughing fit caught him out of his thoughts, and he stumbled from the bed to his cauldron, where he had a bottle of juice he'd bought at the train station. The lukewarm acid of it burned going down, but it settled the cough.

`Are you sick?' Severus asked in a very odd voice.

`It's just a leftover cold or something,' he replied hoarsely. `Can't seem to shake it.'

The other boy nodded. He was fiddling with the hem of his pyjamas.

Remus stood watching him. It occurred to him then that when Severus left, he would be locked up absolutely alone in this room, with nothing but iron and a sleeping tapestry bird for company, and that he was absolutely terrified of that. So he blurted, `You could stay in here if you like.'

The wash of relief over the boy's face made Remus almost weak. Thank God.


	3. 1973 : Autumn

The hand that came down on his shoulder could only belong to James; the fingernails were all bit down to the quick. Remus grinned as the Gryffindor threw his arm about Remus's shoulders, and walked with him toward the Great Hall.

`How you holding up, Remus?' James asked lightly. `You're all settled in now?'

`I'm good. I am.' He was. The first week had been so awful he still wasn't sure how he had gotten through it. His first real day at Hogwarts had passed in a miserable blur. He had even drummed up the courage to go to the Head of his House- the pale and disinterested Professor Asper- and had begged to be sent home.

`Arrangements can be made,' Asper had said, barely looking up from his lesson plans. `Remind me tomorrow after your Transfiguration class.'

But that night, James had found him and been so cheerful, and Remus thought his fears seemed childish and silly. Sirius had even offered him a grudging smile at dinner, and the two Gryffindors had offered advice on his homework and told him funny stories about the strange little ghost who taught Magic history. And Severus had stayed in his room again that night, and had talked about asking if they could be room mates, and he had gone to sleep thinking he might make it after all.

But then there had been the meeting with the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. It had not been at all what Remus had expected- or perhaps hoped- it had been... edifying.

`The Hat, I'm afraid, is always right,' the tall man had said, pushing a plate of chocolate biscuits toward Remus. Remus had sat staring into his lap, wretched in the knowledge that he was most certainly stuck with his lot. `Surely it isn't so bad.'

But it was only his third day, and Remus did not yet have the vision to see beyond his current gloom.

`As to certain other extant circumstances.' Dumbledore folded his hands across his lovely desk. `It is perhaps fortunate that the school is underpopulated this year. We were able to spare you a single room, young Lupin.'

`Underpopulated,' snorted the ruddy-faced Professor Turbute, the Potions teacher. He liked to haul his great paunch about and thrust it at the students like a weapon. He terrified Remus, who, as Turbute came stomping over to the desk, squirmed to the other side of his chair and nearly fell out. `Underpopulated indeed! Withdrawing the students `in caution.' Ha! Seeing the lay of the land, those pansies, those ingrates! Seeing how you handle yourself, they are, Albus, and make no mistake- they're whispering their slanders in the ears of the Ministry as we waste time here!'

`Calm, my dear fellow,' Dumbledore replied with his usual unruffled mildness. He picked up his half-circle spectacles, and perched them on his long nose to gaze at Remus. `Politics,' he confided sagely.

Remus stared to be addressed again. `Yes, sir.'

`Do you know anything of politics, Mr Lupin?'

Remus knew then that Hogwarts was no school, but some kind of insane asylum. `No, sir,' he whispered.

Turbute growled into his second chin and tugged his belly up with one fat hand.

`As to your room.' Dumbledore abruptly became serious- which was to say he stopped being serious at all and reached for a biscuit. `I had hoped we might discuss that.'

The single room, then, because of his sickness, and it would stay that way, no matter what promises or pleas Remus made in hopes of having Severus join him. And arrangements had been made, and Dumbledore himself took Remus walking off the grounds to show him the new tree that had been planted especially for him.

`It is not the best solution,' Dumbledore said, making use of the open air to enjoy a pipe. `I assure you we are working toward a better one.' He released a puff of smoke in a perfect "o" shape. `You understand how this will proceed?'

The only thing that would have made that first week a completely unmitigated hell would have been having to test the shack.

But that was not to be, and the next day hadn't been so bad, nor the day after that, and by the end of the week Remus held his tongue and did not remind Professor Asper to inquire about going home. Even being Slytherin wasn't so awful anymore; Lucius sometimes said hello and sometimes didn't, but some of the other first years had started to stick together and the first pranks had not even been played on Remus, but on another boy with buck teeth.

And now it was almost his fourth week, and the first Quidditch match of the term was day after tomorrow. James had been in a good mood all week, and Remus didn't even mind that Sirius was ruder than ever. He let himself be led to the Gryffindor table, where he could hang around until the Hall filled up. Sirius was already there, talking to a pretty Gryffindor girl and ignoring them. James threw himself onto the bench, only to jump to his feet again.

`Oh, hey, Reemy, you've got to meet someone. Where's Peter?' He searched the table, then leapt as high as he could, waving his arms above his head and whistling. `Peter! Peter! Come here.'

A very pudgy boy with a dough-like face looked up, and came scuttling toward them. James put a hand on his shoulder and the other on Remus's, and said, `Peter Pettigrew, I'd like you to meet my mate Remus Lupin. Remus Lupin, meet my mate Peter Pettigrew.'

Remus held out his hand obligingly. `Hallo, Peter.'

Peter was as homely as Severus Snape, though in nearly opposite ways. Where Severus was tall for his age, Peter was short, and Severus was very thin while Peter was in danger of being fat. Thanks to his glasses, Severus's eyes always seemed large, but Peter's were small and watery and shifty, as if he were extremely paranoid. But he offered Remus a sickly sort of smile. `You're new too?' he asked hopefully.

Remus nodded with a confidence he wouldn't have felt a mere ten days before. `I've seen you in Potions. You're Gryffindor, then?'

`Thank goodness! It's the best House. My mother would have thrashed me if I'd landed anywhere else, I was petrified- I was so scared I'd be Slytherin, and then I'd never be able to go home... ` It slowly dawned on poor Peter that James was red with suppressed laughter, and Sirius wasn't even bothering to hide his amusement. Remus, his cheeks unnaturally pink, brushed his fingers over the white and green Slytherin scarf he wore despite being indoors.

Peter made a squeaky sort of noise, and disappeared down the table.

`He's really quite nice,' James half-apologised. `He's even shyer than you were.'

`You know Jamie and his pets,' Sirius said, lazily. His eyes lingered on Remus. `He just can't say "no" to anything pathetic and needy.'

Remus gazed down at his boots.

`Shut up, Sirius,' James sighed.

`It's alright.' Remus re-arranged his armful of books. He could handle being hated-- at least as long as he had James and Severus. `I understand. Anyway, I'm headed to my own table. I have one more class. See you at dinner.' He hesitated, looking at Sirius and unsure if he wanted to say anything else. But the brown Gryffindor had already gone back to talking to the girl, and so he left, once again, without pressing the older boy. He was unaware that Sirius watched him go.

++

`Hey,' Severus said, pushing himself away from the wall he leaned against. He had seen Remus coming from down the hall- the scarf gave him away in the midst of all the unrelenting black and grey of the school's uniforms. He received a smile of unusually large proportions, and tried his best to return it.

Remus frowned as he halted before the taller boy. `What happened?'

It took a great deal of effort not to touch to already purpling swelling that was his left eye. `Nothing. Did you finish your essay?'

`Yes.' Remus hesitated. `We-` He was interrupted by Lucius Malfoy, who slammed into him from behind and scattered his books.

`Didn't see you there,' Malfoy said breezily. `Here.' He held out his hand. Severus glared uselessly, bending to pick up the History text that had landed on his foot as Remus took the offer and was pulled back to his feet. `Is that your essay? Can I see it?'

`Class is in five minutes. That's not enough time to copy.' But Remus was already handing it to him, and Severus, about to protest, let the words die on his lips as Goyle and Crabbe suddenly wedged him between their considerable hulks, smirking down at him. He caught Lucius's wink, and scowled. The news that, due to the small class sizes, First and Second Year History would be taught as one class had led to many a misfortune for the youngest and weakest of Hogwarts.

`Just wanted to check my answer,' Lucius said, rolling the parchment tightly and slipping it into Remus's bag. `Sit with me today.'

Remus glanced at Severus. `Can he sit with us too?'

`No room.' Lucius didn't even bother to pretend regret. `Come on. Mum sent me some sweets and I saved some for you.' He threw his arm around the smaller first year and walked him to the door. Remus looked back over his shoulder at Severus helplessly, and mouthed "Sorry."

Goyle sent a blast of foul breath into Severus's face as he leaned in. `Sit with Sweeny today. Got it?'

Severus did not reply. He kept his chin up and his eyes level, gazing blindly at the statue of the goblin king Wort. His silence had not done him a kindness in the showers that morning- had, in fact, earned him the black eye he wore now as a badge for his insolence. But he knew no other way. Grovelling was not in his nature.

Crabbe gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs as reminder, and the two giants left him. Severus followed at a safe distance, and stopped in the doorway.

The only seat left was next to Sweeny, who was sporting a split lip. Apparently they would be serving their punishments together. Remus sat in the back, between Lucius and another second year, Edward Nickens. He was watching for Severus.

Severus turned his back and sat beside Sweeny.

Remus caught him up again right before dinner, barrelling through the crowded hall like a tiny magnet drawn to Severus's lodestone. `Don't be like that,' Remus panted. `Come sit with me.'

Severus withdrew his arm from the boy's hand and clutched his books more tightly to his chest. His eye and cheekbone ached sharply, but it was his ego that smarted more.

`Lucius told me it was Goyle,' Remus said. `I'm sorry, Sev. Please talk to me.'

`Did he tell you why?' Severus demanded, finally turning to face him. He took his glasses off with a hand that shook and folded them carefully into his pocket.

Remus shook his head. His white face was clouded and confused, hurt; his eyes were washed of all colour in his concern. For me, Severus thought, and felt a surge of strange satisfaction. It helped that Remus felt badly. There was no point, he decided, in telling Remus what had passed in the showers; how Malfoy had told him to back off, and the things Malfoy had threatened to do, or have his goons do. Remus wasn't Malfoy's friend. He was Severus's. It helped.

`I thought we could split the sweets,' Remus said. `The ones Lucius gave me. It's fish night, after all.'

Yes, it helped. Severus led the way into the Hall, and Remus even chose a seat far down the table from Malfoy.

++

James leapt at Remus from behind, whirling the smaller boy about in a circle. `Wish me luck!' he crowed. `You're coming right? Right?'

`Of course he's coming,' Peter Pettigrew said anxiously. `The whole school is coming.'

Sirius stared with a sneer on his mouth. `Perhaps little Reemy is cheering for the other side.'

James blew a raspberry at Sirius, quite cheerfully. `Remus has no more in common with Hufflepuff than you do, you self-involved git. Of course he's cheering for Gryffindor!' The Seeker nodded politely to the sour-looking boy who had been walking with Remus. `Hi! What about you? Who you cheering for?'

`Does it make a difference?' The black-haired boy- what a honker he had, a truly unfortunate nose, James thought sympathetically- gazed at the ceiling as if they didn't exist. Not the friendliest, but at least Remus had someone in his own House.

`Sure it does,' he replied, barely skipping a beat. `I'm James Potter. What's your name? You a first year?'

Remus introduced them. `James, Severus.' He interrupted himself with a wet-sounding cough. `I'd ask if you're excited, but it's rhetorical.'

`Such big words!' James laughed. `I can barely sit still. We're going to beat the stuffing out of old Hufflepuff! Pinder Aujla, their Seeker, he hasn't caught the Snitch in five games! Five games! It's almost too easy.'

`I heard their Beaters were excellent,' Remus said.

`They're okay,' Sirius told the air in front of himself. `Not up to our standard.'

James mimed a quick boxing step. `No challenge! Merlin's beard, but I can't wait til fifth period! I'm going to jump out of my skin! Come to the celebration tonight, Reemy?'

`Getting ahead of yourself a bit, aren't you?' Severus muttered. Only Peter heard him, and looked quite shocked.

`Gryffindor common room, eight o'clock. Password's "knickerbocker."'

`Jamie!' Sirius growled. `Giving out the password to other Houses is against rules.'

`Like you care,' James shot back. `Remus, if you don't come, I'll be brokenhearted. You can come too, Severus. Merlin's beard! We'd best be along. Old Kill-joy and I have Potions. Turpentine'll skin us to be late!' With a great bound, James was off.

Sirius sent Peter scampering with a scornful brown-eyed glare. `Don't come,' he said shortly to the Slytherins. `I'm officially uninviting you. Got me?'

Remus let his eyes wander somewhere to the left of Sirius's head. `James said it was okay.'

`Don't make me repeat myself.' Sirius stepped closer, using his superior height and weight to intimidate. `We don't need you.'

Remus finally looked at him. `I have study group,' he said. `I guess I can't come.'

Severus gave him an open-mouthed stare. That was not the Remus he knew.

Sirius mocked them with a smile. `Great timing.' He stuck his hands in his pockets and turned smartly on his heel. His footsteps derisively on the cold stone floors as he sauntered away.

`Might as well lock yourself in your room as show your face to him again,' Severus snapped, suddenly embarrassed for his friend. `You let him step all over you!'

`And I suppose you sat with Sweeny for his conversation,' Remus bit back. Two spots of colour burned in his pale cheeks, making him look fevered. He tugged on the ends of his scarf. `And what got into you? You could at least have been polite.'

Severus let Remus flee him, knowing he had mis-stepped without knowing which step had been the bad one. Something was clearly wrong with Remus. And that third year! No better than Lucius Darling Malfoy. Why did Remus want Gryffindor so badly when they were no better, no better at all? He'd wanted to slug that brown-eyed boy for talking so to his friend.

++

Eight o'clock had rolled around and long passed when Severus timidly knocked on Remus's door. He had sat with, of all people, Sweeny at the match, and used his binoculars to search for Remus on the Gryffindor stands. It had been a swift game, and had gone much as James Potter had predicted it. Potter was more than a match for Pinder Aujla, who had not even been near the Snitch when it was captured, giving Gryffindor a victory of 150-10. At dinner, Severus had concentrated on his plate, secretly hoping Remus would forgive him and come sit with him; such had not happened. Remus did not come to dinner at all- and had not shown up at the nightly study group.

Remus answered the door just as Severus was about to knock again. The colour had not left his face; bright red spots blazed amidst white skin, and his grey eyes could not seem to focus. `Hallo,' Remus said.

Severus felt a prick of worry. `Can I come in?'

In answer Remus left the door open and went to his bed, where his suitcase lay open and he was packing it with clothing. `What's this?' Severus asked, staring.

`My mother is taken ill,' Remus replied to his hands, which were smoothing a jumper as he placed it on the top of the pile. `I'm going home for a few days.'

`Oh.' Severus rubbed his palms over his trousers. `I'm sorry. Is it bad?'

`She lives alone. She needs someone with her.'

Remus was upset, then. They were new enough to each other that Severus could not read all the other boy's moods, yet; but he had come to recognise that when Remus's shoulders became hunched like that, and his spine seemed to shake with tension as though it were a guitar string that had been pulled too tight, that his mood was bad, indeed. `You'll miss class,' Severus said, to fill the silence.

`The Headmaster said I can make up the work on special dispensation.'

`I came to ask if you went to the celebration,' Severus explained finally. `Since you weren't at... but I guess you were getting the news.'

`Suppose it's just as well. We'll never know if I'm a coward after all.'

Severus chewed his lower lip, unsure how to proceed. `No one called you a coward.'

Remus faced him. `You don't think I am?'

No more than I am, Severus thought, for sitting with Sweeny that day. And Remus had ignored Lucius at dinner, and Lucius had pinched him viciously in the corridor outside Potions the next day for it. `No,' Severus said.

Remus looked down at his bare feet. `It's just a day or two. If you see him, please tell James that I wanted to congratulate him on the game.'

Like hell. `Sure,' he replied.

++

James galloped into the cafeteria and bee-lined straight for the Slytherin table. `Oy, Malfoy! Where is he?'

Lucius looked as if ignoring James was a great temptation, but they had played this game before. James wouldn't go away until he got an answer. Lucius gathered all twelve years of his bad temper and replied in a clipped tone, `He's making up work in History.'

`Thanks.' James threw a hurried wave at the long-nosed boy- what was his name?-- whom Remus was friendly with, and took off out of the Hall. He was in such a rush he didn't notice Remus until he ran into the first-year.

`Careful there!' He bent to gather Remus's scattered books, and held them out apologetically. `Didn't see you.'

`It's all right. It seems to be happening a lot lately.' Remus shoved the books back into his satchel, already bursting at the seams with misuse. `Congratulations.'

`Thanks! Where were you?' He slung an arm around Remus's shoulders and drew him in toward the Hall. `Blood pudding today. Yech. I looked for you all night. Minny finally said you'd gone home for a coupla' days. Something wrong?'

`Nothing. It was nothing.' Remus hesitated at the great doors. `James? I'm not very hungry suddenly. I- I think I'll just go back to my dorm.'

`Are you all right?' Now that he took the time to look, Remus did seem pale. Make it green, he thought, when the smell of the blood pudding hit them and Remus looked as if he'd lose whatever was in his stomach. `I'll walk you. No, I know the way. Come on.'

The three flights were largely silent. As they neared the guardian of the dungeon entrance, Remus said, `You want to come in?'

James had never been inside the Slytherin dorms before; he had never been very curious about it before. But it was lunch hour and he had a free period coming. `Sure,' he replied. `Do I get a tour or do you have to hide me?'

`I can show you if you want.' Remus did not pause before speaking the password clearly. `Come on.' He stepped over the slightly uneven doorjamb and stopped in the approximate centre of the common room. `This is it, then.' A lone student looked up from her book, then went back to its pages without any interest in them. It was a gloomy room, and the only light came from the ovens, resulting in a pitch darkness despite it being nearly noon.

`This way,' Remus reminded him, and led him down a low-ceilinged corridor to Room 5.

`You don't have roommates,' James noticed, flopping down on the rug and glancing around. `That's pretty cool.'

`Severus stays over sometimes.' Remus put his bag on his desk. `How was the party?'

`It was fun. Sirius caught a Fizzer in the face and he won't speak to Ned any more until Ned apologises, which won't happen because Ned didn't do it, it was Rhys, but Rhys always lets someone else take the fall and Sirius won't believe it was him.' He propped his arms behind his head and watched a spider wrap something in her web. `Cool,' he whispered.

`Lucius said the game was a pushover.'

`Sure was. Didn't even break a sweat.' James sat up with a start as he remembered something. `Hey, want to see something really far out?'

The dubious look on Remus's face no doubt came from association with the nastier of Sirius's favourite pranks. But James only waved away the doubt and searched his vest for the paper he had pinned inside. `Look! This is really wicked. Sirius and I have been working on it.' He jumped up onto the bed beside Remus, shaking out the parchment and smoothing it out over the coverlet.

`It's a map,' Remus said, leaning over it. `It's Hogwarts!'

`It's the Hogwarts that no tour guide will ever show you,' James corrected proudly. `In the course of my tenure here at this blessed hunk of rock, I have learned a great many secrets that not even the teachers know. I can get to a lot of places that I bet no one has been in for a hundred years. I can even get to Hogsmeade by a secret passage!'

`Hogsmeade?'

`Where did you grow up?' James pointed to a corner of the map, and then to a spot on the coverlet a few fingerwidths from the edge of the paper. `It's an all-Magical town near our own Hogwarts. When you reach third year, you're allowed to visit on special weekends. They have amazing sweet shops, and the pub is terrific, and then of course there's the joke shop.' James found an Exploding Snap in his pocket, left over from the party, and gave it to Remus. `Some of it is really wild, but these are fourteen a bag and don't cause too much ruckus. Keep that.'

`This is all of Hogwarts then?' Remus asked, examining the snap.

`Certainly not.' James sighed. `Someday it will be. Can you imagine what we can do with a map like that? Someday students- for a modest fee- will be able to sneak into the study of their most hated professor and leave dung bombs in the fireplace!'

`Noble of you,' Remus smiled.

`Well, I have a broom to consider,' James retorted, with great dignity. A moment later, however, he abandoned his pose. `Anyway, now you know the secret. You can get to the kitchens for a midnight snack, come to Hogsmeade with us, sneak up to the roof or to the Potions classroom. I could even get us into the Headmaster's office. The last Headmaster, you wouldn't know him, he was a real drag. Got more use out of that tapestry passage last year. But Dumbledore's all right.'

`If you ever get caught with that, you'll be in trouble,' Remus said.

James made a face. `I know. I haven't quite thought of a way out of that little problem, except to keep it pinned inside me shirt, here. I had another one but Asper confiscated it after he caught me'n Sirius trying to lure his cat into a storeroom on the fifth floor.' He patted his chest, just over his heart. `Well. You all right? Need to rest?'

`I'll be all right. Bit of a cold.' Remus picked up the map and closely studied it. `There has to be a way to make it- invisible, or something. Seems you ought to protect it.'

`You work on that, then. I'll trust you to think of something.' James grinned. `Your room is pretty cool. Can I come back some time?'

`Sure, any time.' Remus turned pink. `Thanks for wanting to.'

`Sure.' James smiled. `So, Hogsmeade next weekend. Come?'

`Won't I get in trouble?'

`Only if you get caught.' James pointed to the map. `Use that, and we'll get you into Honeydukes. Have you ever had butterbeer?'

`No.'

`You're in for a real treat. It's settled. Bring a hood or something, though, in case a teacher decides to take a seriousness to chaperoning.'

And indeed the year's first trip to Hogsmeade went off without a hitch. Remus emerged from the secret passageway that began behind a gauche, seven-foot mirror on the fourth floor a little dusty, but with a pleased grin peeking out from his hood, and none the worse for the wear. Sirius was his normal self- which was to say he ignored and needled Remus by turns, and once even wished it were Poor Peter with them and not a Slytherin- but the day was unspoilt by arguing and even Sirius settled down into a pleasant mood after his first butterbeer, and with his pockets bursting with sweets. Thus was set a pattern for the three boys, and eventually Peter Pettigrew as well. Severus joined them once, but was so nervous he declined to return until his third year privilege arrived in the regular fashion.

++

`Happy Christmas,' Remus's light voice said from far above his head.

James sat up grinning. It was only mid-day, and the Gryffindor common room was at a high point of traffic. Remus, so inconspicuous that few ever glanced twice at him, had no trouble sneaking in past the Fat Lady, as long as he stuck close to an unsuspecting elder year. The Slytherin was smiling an uncharacteristically large smile, and he was holding-

`Gifts,' Remus said, and sat beside him. `Open it now, since you won't be here for Christmas anyway.'

James had no arguments for that. Out of consideration for the excellent job the younger boy had done with stiff, sparkling silver paper, James did not do as he customarily did at home and shuck the paper halfway across the room. He used a bitten fingernail to slice through the sticky tape, and folded back the halves of the sheet.

`Wicked!' he shouted, lifting a pair of arm guards from the box. `Remus, these are terrific!' Painstakingly stitched into the leather in Gryffindor red were his initials, and in gold-leafed press beneath the letters, the words `Seeker, 1972 - 1973'.

`I didn't do it all myself,' Remus admitted, his cheeks coloured to match the stitches. `I had some help.'

`I'm amazed.' James was already slipping them on and wiggling his fingers and wrists. `Remus, thanks so much!'

The over-large smile returned. `Happy Christmas.'

James lowered his arms. `Are you sure you don't want to come back with me over the holiday? It's not to late to get permission.' What kind of family did he have, anyway, telling him not to come home for Christmas? It was no wonder Remus was so painfully shy. `Mum'd be thrilled. You're quieter than Sirius and you make less mess.'

The 1973 Gryffindor Seeker fully expected it when Remus lied through his teeth. `It's alright. My mother's just not doing so well right now and it's best not to strain her. I don't mind staying here.'

In an empty castle, in empty dungeons, four floors away from even the house elves, who would at least enjoy feeding him. James sighed. `Come up to the dorms so I can give you your present.'

Remus was an appreciative recipient of the biography of a famous Auror from the seventeenth century. On the front cover, a stuffy looking man with a pinched face and foppish clothes smoked a pipe and completely ignored his new owner. Remus tucked it away into his satchel and promised to read it over the holiday.

`Where's Sirius?' he asked, looking around. `I have something for him, too.'

`He's trying to get Cynthia Salander to go out with him. He's probably hanging out by the Hufflepuff dorms trying to look like he belongs there. She might actually be impervious.'

`Sirius would never chase anyone who wouldn't give in,' Remus said. `That's the game.'

Calling it a game was dead-on. Sirius didn't like real challenge any more than he liked change, which was why James was the Quidditch player, and not his otherwise more athletically inclined friend. Sirius only played games he knew he could win.

Remus was looking at James's new action figure- Eamon Keller, the rising star of the Scottish team- tossing the thumb-sized bludger at the plastic man and watching it nail the little ball across the coverlet. The Slytherin first year was getting thin again, and even James noticed how Remus had grown twitchier over the past week. He didn't look eleven, or at least he didn't look like the other first years. He looked like an old man, fussing with his ever-present scarf and coughing into his sleeve.

He's sick, James thought, and realised suddenly that Remus was sick quite often. Pity stirred in his stomach. He had never given an especial lot of thought to what it must be like not to be healthy and strong, as he himself was. And Slytherins were such a snarky lot. Was Remus teased? Was that why he preferred the company of older Gryffindors to students in his own House? And he hadn't thought anything of it when he'd glimpsed Remus cheering at the last match from the Gryffindor side.

`James?'

He grinned crookedly to be caught staring. `You want that?' he asked, motion to the Keller figurine. `You can have him.'

Remus shook his head. `He's yours.'

`Well, on loan then, for the holiday? I wasn't planning on taking him home.' But the other boy had already tucked the Beater back against James's pillow, where he'd found it, and was standing.

`I have class,' he said. `I wanted to catch you and Sirius on lunch hour but then I didn't see you in the Hall. Can you tell him I left his present on his bed?'

`Sure.' James pointed to the right bed, and Remus left a small package sitting in the exact centre of it. `You want I should walk you?'

`No, I'm going to meet up with Severus and Malfoy. History.' Remus made a face. `I try to pay attention, but it's so easy to just take a quick nap. For the whole hour.'

`You and every class he's ever had, poor Professor Wort,' James laughed. `I shouldn't worry about it. I can help you study for the exam, if you like. He never bothers to change the tests and I did all right when I took first year. I was still noble-minded about paying attention,' he teased.

Remus smiled. `Sure. See you later, James.'

`Bye.'

James rolled onto his stomach and contemplated Eamon Keller, who was scowling in a very Scottish sort of way at him. `Oh, stop,' he murmured, and turned Eamon onto his back. Maybe he could owl Remus's mum secretly. Surely she wouldn't object to Remus staying with him? That would be a nice surprise for Remus.

`What's this?'

James hadn't heard Sirius enter. `From Reemy,' he replied, and turned onto his side, propped up by an elbow, to look. Sirius had already stripped off his tie and vest, and he was looking well- kissed. Remus had been right. Cynthia had given in.

Sirius stared down at the package in his hands. `What the bloody hell for?'

`Christmas,' James said. `You know, with the big jolly saint who gives out gifts to needy children. Lots of trees with bright decorations. Sweets. Big feast.'

`Shut it.' Sirius sat on the edge of his bed, clutching Remus's gift as if he thought it would explode. `Why's he giving gifts for? I thought he was poor.'

`Well they're not expensive presents then.' James had recognised the arm guards as school issue, though they were newer than the ones he currently used. `Isn't it the thought that counts?'

Sirius tossed it away, and stood, rebelliously slouching and stuffing his hands into his pockets. `Well, I'm not getting him anything. Ridiculous.'

James sat up. `You're a right prick sometimes. You could fucking open it.'

`You're taking his side?'

`It's not a fight! He gave you a gift, though who knows why! You treat him like a goblin and push him around worse than Malfoy does. You like Peter better and Peter couldn't even get your name straight for weeks. The least you could do is see what it is.'

Sirius had turned a dull purple. `I might have known you'd stick up for your little charity case. Merlin's beard, he'll be dead before we graduate and you're all attached! What happened to my best friend?'

James was on his feet with his fists clenched and his glasses hanging crooked before Sirius had even finished. `You take that back.'

`What? That he'll die?' Sirius sneered. `You'll probably be his bed nurse, too, and develop a guilt complex the size of France. He'll cough his last sappy words to you and you'll name your first child after him.'

`You,' James whispered. He had to keep his voice soft or he'd start shouting. `You are insufferable. It isn't always about **you** , you know- and for your information, if he does die-` James thrust his chin in the air. `If he does, at least I would know I had treated him with a little humanity, as it's obvious he's had little enough of it and none from you, whom he only wants to please-`

`I hate you!' Sirius flared. `I hate him and I hate how you moon after him! I'd sooner eat his stupid present than open it!' He grabbed the little package from the bed and hurled it across the room. `Forget you.' He stormed out, knocking over a chair on purpose and slamming the door.

++

It was very late when Sirius climbed out of the window onto the room of the Astronomy Tower. `Jamie?'

`I don't believe I'm speaking to you yet.'

`That's what I'm here about.' He held his arms out for balance, and walked heel to toe along the ancient tiling to the ledge James was perched on. `Can I apologise?'

`I'll think about it.'

Sirius slid carefully onto his behind, and dangled his feet over the edge hundreds of feet in the air. `I didn't mean it.'

James huffed, and pulled his coat tighter. `I believe that. You still said it.'

`What part really got you angry?' Sirius asked, burying his bare hands under his own shirt. He had not reckoned with the wind; it was freezing. `He won't die. I don't hate you.'

`You really hate him?' James finally looked at him. `Do you really wish I weren't friends with him?'

`Bollocks, Jamie!'

`Do you want me to stop being friends with him?'

`You couldn't do it, and anyway you'd hate me if I asked that.' He sighed. `Do you want me to try harder?'

`I want you all to like each other and get along.'

`News flash.' Sirius kicked lightly at James's legs. `The world doesn't operate like that.'

`Doesn't mean I can't wish.'

Sirius said, `So do I get another chance to make it all copasetic? Start fresh next term?'

He finally earned a smile. `Yeah. If you get a lump of coal for Christmas, though, you'd better do a good job sweet-talking about your good intentions for next term.'

They sat in silence for a long time, watching clouds move across the tars. James abruptly offered Sirius a thermos. `Hot pumpkin juice,' he said. `The kitchen elves had just made a batch when I went in.'

`S'good.' Sirius unscrewed the lid and sipped the juice, appreciating the burn that spread down his chest.

`Did you ever open the gift Remus gave you?'

A cloud floated past, revealing the moon, nearly full now. Sirius gazed up at it. `Yeah. I even said thank you.'

`What was it?'

It was sitting on his desk amid the worn tissue it had been wrapped in. `Gryffin feather,' he answered.

`Gryffin for the Gryffindor.'

Sirius remembered, though James did not, how he had needled Remus on the train to Hogwarts. "You always know a Gryffindor," he had said, knowing when he looked at Remus that the younger boy would never make their House. He hadn't decided yet if the feather was a gesture of peace, or a unsubtle pinch. He'd earned the latter.

`You know what? I'm cold.' James heaved himself up. `Let's go in.'

`Finally.'

++

`Have a good Christmas,' Remus said. James surprised him with an hug, and for a moment Remus looked exceedingly young and exceedingly inept at the business of affection. He was a dull red when James released him.

`Here,' the Gryffindor seeker said, and pulled the Eamon Keller figurine out of his coat pocket. `Go on, then. It's bad luck not to take a gift.'

`Since when?' Remus was even redder now, but he took it, and held it in both hands when it tried to kick him. `Thanks, James.'

James was grinning. `Sure thing. Enjoy the feast, okay? Eat a tart for me.'

`I'd have to eat several, if I were eating for you,' Remus retorted. `Go on. That was the last boarding call.'

James was looking at Sirius, obviously trying to communicate something from beneath frowning brows. He jerked his head toward Remus and then nudged Sirius in the ribs. Then he kicked his shoe.

`See you later,' Sirius told Remus, and hefted his bag over his shoulder and left the Hall.

James came hopping after him, dragging his suitcase. `Sirius!'

`Someday the train really will leave you behind.'

James grabbed his arm. `Sirius.'

`Damnit,' he muttered, and dropped his bag. `All right then, hold on a minute.' He left his friend with a question on his lips and sprinted back into the Hall. `Oy!' he shouted, knocking the door open with a well-aimed shoulder. `Remus!'

The first year hadn't moved from his table. He sat with his chin in his hand, playing idly with the Eamon figure. He stood when Sirius called his name.

Sirius halted right before him. `Your scarf,' he said, panting slightly.

Remus's mouth fell open. `My scarf?'

`It's all old and nappy.' He reached for it, and was surprised when Remus flinched away. He chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, and then reached again, determined. Remus stood with his head lowered and his hands twitching as Sirius unwound the frayed wool, and then reached up and removed his own scarf. `Here,' he said, carefully draping it about the boy's small shoulders. He tied a knot, and tucked the fringe into Remus's robe. `Mine's better.'

Remus's forehead was furrowed when he looked up, and his grey eyes were a mystery that Sirius avoided. One hand came up to stroke the soft weave. `Thank you,' he said, subdued.

`Happy Christmas,' Sirius told him, and hesitated. `See you after holiday.'

Remus swallowed. `Good-bye, Sirius.'

James was foot-tapping when Sirius returned to him. `Well.'

`I know,' Sirius said, and grabbed his bag. `Come on.'


	4. Chapter Three

It was nearly dawn.

Remus rose, shivering and holding his cardigan close around his chest. The stove's warmth had gone out sometime during the night, and the room had frozen over while he slept, as only a room walled with iron could. He imagined the grey light of dawn stealing across the snow-covered lawn of the school, how the stone of the tallest towers would blend to invisibility with the sky, until the sun came. If it did. It was January, called the dead of winter, and he felt as if he hadn't seen the sun for a lifetime.

The house-elves had delivered the components he had requested, laying them out neatly on his bureau. Remus poured water from the pitcher into the cauldron already warmed by a small, dimly glowing brazier. He rubbed his eyes, only briefly debating, as he always did, throwing away the hateful parchment-wrapped and neatly labelled packet that lay accusing him atop the wooden surface. But instead, he seized it, ripped open a corner, and shook out the dried leaves into the steaming water. The smell made him gag. He stirred with a finger, and tipped the mixture into his waterglass. He drank it straight down, not giving himself a chance to pause.

He was shaking when he returned to his bed, burrowing under the covers. Severus, sleeping with his head at the foot of the bed, did not stir as he climbed in. Remus had gotten a fair amount of practise at not disturbing his friend. He curled around himself, pulled the cardigan up over his head and fought the urge to retch as his stomach twisted into knots.

Three days til full moon. He wanted to die.

1975 : Spring

`You know,' Peter said.

`What do I know?' James looked up from his chess pieces, lightening the scowl of concentration that had gripped his features since Sirius had started winning six moves into the game.

`The map.' Peter sat up. `When you think about it, the map is only good so long as there aren't teachers around who are watching out for you, isn't that so?'

`S'true,' Remus confirmed. He lay on his stomach with his schoolbooks open before him, tediously researching his weekend Potions assignment. `Professor Lievier was talking to Dumfries' (the school groundskeeper) `and nearly saw me go into the fourth floor closet. I've been avoiding it since.'

`So what are you getting at?' Sirius took the last of James's knights. `Not much we can do but keep a good look-out.'

`But maybe that's just it.' Unused to having an idea before any of the others, Peter was looking a little green from the pressure. He twisted his pudgy hands in his shirt. `I mean if we- if we-`

Remus's pale face turned up. `Take your time, Peter,' he smiled.

`What we need to do is know before we get there if someone is lurking about.'

James lost his castle next. `Well, I'll agree to that. The question is, how do we accomplish that?'

`Check,' Sirius said.

Peter had reached the end of his train of thought, however, and fell back in his window seat with a sigh.

`Sneakoscopes.' Remus twisted to grab at his knapsack. `Sir John Rochester was the inventor of sneakoscopes.' He drew a now dog-eared book from the back flap, and held it up- the biography of the ancient Auror James had given him. `They let you know when someone or something around you is- well, sneaky. Up to no good.'

`I think I've seen those in Hogsmeade.' James cautiously moved his king to the left. `They're expensive. I'm not sure we'd be able to get one.'

`Plus,' Sirius added, picking up his queen, `+we're+ the ones being sneaky and up to no good. A sneakoscope wouldn't warn us about teachers, would it?' He set the queen down with a thump. `Check.'

`I give up.' James saved Sirius the trouble of knocking over his king. `It's not such a bad idea. Maybe we're just going about it in the wrong way.' He threw himself back against his pillows, nudging Sirius's legs out of the way of his stretch. `What's the opposite of a sneakoscope?'

`Being boring,' Sirius muttered. `I'm so hungry I could eat a dugbog. Isn't it dinner time?'

`Tea time.' Peter sighed. `The house-elves ought to be delivering it to the professors right about now. Tea biscuits. Maybe even those Scottish shortbreads.'

Remus, grinning, ducked his head. `I have Bott's beans in my room. Want me to go get them?'

Peter moved a hand over his rather over-large stomach and sighed mournfully. `No. Thanks.'

The other boy began to roll up his parchment anyway, and stuffed his books into his bag. `I ought to get going. I promised to help someone with the History essay, and I need a lot of help with this flow chart. Shall I see you at supper?'

Sirius stood and moved to the window after Remus had gone. `I hate winter. I'd give anything to be outside.' The world had become grey- white, stretching as far as he could see; not even very far. The mountain in the distance had been hidden by the flurries in the courtyard. He sighed.

`You're one of the itchiest people I know,' James noted. `You could go outside, then. Two hours til the meal. That ought to be enough to be thoroughly frozen, yeah?'

`I hate being cold even more than I hate being inside,' he snapped.

`Well, you want to go play a prank on someone?' James joined him at the window. `Maybe being nasty will even your lovely temper out.'

Sirius flicked him a glare; but he gave it up. James was right. His moods had been changeable since the snow storm had rolled in with February. Most of the moods were bad. But he had never dealt well with being closed in. It made him feel trapped.

`Peter, you still hungry? We could hit the kitchens and then sneak into the Potions classroom and mix up all the herbs again.'

`Too soon for that.' Peter turned it down. `Professor Turbute will be sure to suspect us. The kitchens would be fine, though.'

`We could get some sludgeworms from the greenhouse and hide them in the Slytherin laundry.'

`Wrong time of year for sludgeworms,' said James.

`We could-`

`Why don't we just play another game of chess? Or you could even start on your homework.'

Sirius was horrified. `It's only Saturday!'

`Remus was doing his homework.'

`What more proof do you need that he's weird?' He kicked a dirty shirt out of his way and jumped onto his bed, reaching up to the shelf he had hung at head-height for his mittens and hacky sack. `I am going to go outside. I'll be at the pitch. I'll come in for dinner.'

James cast a glance of subdued loathing out the window. `Er, want company?'

Sirius had known James wouldn't be wont to ruin the effects of a day spent beside the fire. `No. I'll see you later.' He crammed his knit hat over his hair and threw on his jacket. `Bye.'

`Bye,' Peter echoed, and Sirius was out the window, hopping to the ledge below and climbing down the knotted rope ladder he and James had long since rigged. By the time he'd passed the window looking into one of the second floor storage rooms- quite startling a house elf who was collecting a mop and cleaning soap- his hands were bricks of ice and his feet fumbled for the rope that slipped between his legs like a living snake. He dropped the last ten feet and landed awkwardly, letting out a squawk. For a long minute he crouched in the snow, unable to determine whether he'd turned his ankle.

A hand touched his shoulder. `Are you all right?'

It was Remus. Sirius stood. `What are you doing here?'

The younger boy was wrapped tightly against the wind, clutching his layers of fraying jumpers around him and hold his scarf- Sirius's scarf- to his lower face. His bare hair danced crazily in the gusts of frost and drizzle.

`You lied about studying,' Sirius said.

The red that suffused Remus's face could have come from the cold. `Good for you that I did. Do you need help getting back inside?'

He tested his weight on his ankle. `Inside is the place I escaped from, I'm not going back yet.' Another bluster threw a fistful of snow flakes into his face and up his nose. `I- ew- well, come on then.'

Remus tagged along, his gait a graceless combination of skipping and sliding through what was, for him, knee-high drifts. `Where are we going?'

`Quidditch pitch. I know a place where we'll be out of the worst of this.' He grabbed Remus in time to stop him falling on his arse. `Would you be more careful? What are you doing out here, anyway?'

`Playing.'

`You'll get sick. Don't complain to me about it when you're dribbling snot.'

`I wouldn't dare.'

The grounds keeper, Femerius Dumfries, had been fighting a war on the Quidditch pitch since the winter of 1964 when he signed on to the Hogwarts staff. He had laid a very handsome sod over the field during the summer of that year, and had been horrified when a particularly bad season ruined it. Dumfries attended games with his hat twisting between his red-knuckled hands out of the anxiety that so many careless students would create a disaster for his beautiful grass. It was said that in 1969, Headmaster Dippet had finally given in to his grounds keeper's harassment, and allowed the pitch to be spelled with a weather repellent. He had held firm, however, on one point, and refused a student repeller.

Thus it was that stepping onto the pitch was stepping into a wide sea of green. The wind did not ease, but at least it was easier to walk. `There,' Sirius pointed. `The third tower.'

`What about it?'

`We can go under the side. We won't feel the wind in there.' But he hadn't reckoned with the noise; the corduroy walls of the tent-like towers that lined the pitch hummed and roared. Remus seemed fascinated, uprooting one of the corner pegs and crawling under the hem. Sirius came after him, and they sat together in the cave-like square, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Remus said, `I've been baptized.'

Sirius rubbed his feet through his boots. `What's baptized?'

`In church.' Remus sighed, and lay on his side, toying with the fringe of his scarf. `My mother married again this summer. He's a Catholic.'

`What's a Catholic?'

`I thought you were taking Muggle studies,' Remus grinned. `Catholics believe in God. You have to have special permission to be one. Mum made us get baptized so she could get married to Samuel.'

`Do you believe in God, then?'

`No.' Remus wrapped the scarf around his hands, blowing on them. `But I had to say I did.'

Sirius rubbed his ears. `You lie all the time, anyway.'

This brought Remus sitting up. `Why would you say that?'

Sirius laughed at him. `Don't be insulting. You only tell the truth if you're cornered.'

There was a short silence. Remus lay down again. `It's my business, then, isn't it.'

And suddenly Sirius didn't want to fight. `Yeah. I guess.'

`You were right, I wasn't playing.' Remus sat up again. `Do you want to see what I was doing?'

`I dunno, do I?' Sirius fingered the hacky sack he'd stuffed into his pocket. It really was too cold for that outside, and here in the tower there wasn't really any room, especially with Remus with him. He sighed. `Yeah. Show me.'

Remus had them go back outside; they left the pitch, he leading and Sirius following at a small distance, watching the boy and wondering. Though they had been easier with each other since the Christmas before last, easy was a relative term. There was a distrust between them. Remus kept secrets and Sirius kept his suspicions to himself. A Slytherin was a Slytherin was a Slytherin, as it were.

`We're not allowed in the Forbidden Forest,' Sirius said, moving to catch Remus up.

`Rules have never stopped you before.' Remus stopped walking to look up at him. `You can go back. I was going to come out here anyway, before I saw you.'

The Forest looked dead, covered with a thick layer of snow and standing more silent than ever it had before. Sirius had never been in the Forest before. It occurred to him to question why Remus had. He and James had always found plenty of trouble elsewhere.

`I'm coming,' he said.

They trekked in silence, and it seemed to Sirius that Remus was growing more excited, shaking off his habitual lethargies and all but frisking. There was a familiar pinch in his stomach, a pinch of nervousness that meant trouble was near; but this time, there was no answering thrill or desire to hurtle forward. This felt wrong.

`Stop,' Remus told him, touching him on the chest. `Look down.'

They were in a very small space between the trees, not even a proper clearing. The grass had shrivelled and died, cut off from sunlight by the ancient branches stretching above it. Sirius had stopped where he was told, and the toe of his boot had stopped just short of crushing a mushroom.

`What am I supposed to be looking at?' Sirius moved away from Remus's hand.

`It's a faerie ring.' Remus knelt, his fingers brushing close to the mushroom- there were several, their dead-looking grey heads poking large out of the fallow- but not touching. `We found it last week. I've been coming out almost every day, I-`

`Who is we? James? Peter?'

`Me,' said Malfoy, stepping out from behind a tree. `What'd you bring him here for?' he snapped at Remus.

`I just wanted him to see it.'

`It's our ring,' Malfoy told Sirius, who was glaring at him with loathing. `You forget you ever saw it.'

`I should have known this would have something to do with your Slytherin nonsense,' Sirius grunted. `Faerie ring. If you want to eat whatever you find out here, that's your business. It'll probably turn you orange sooner than get you high.'

Remus stood. `You don't believe me.'

`I'm cold and wet and hungry and you dragged me all the way out here to show me mushrooms. No, I don't believe you!' Sirius pulled his jacket closer about him. `I'm going back.'

`Good,' Malfoy muttered.

Sirius cast him a scathing look, and stepped forward, aiming a kick at the closet fungus. Remus stopped him, grabbing his arm. `Don't!' he said sharply. `For goodness' sake, just look!' Still holding the other boy's arm, he put one foot inside the circle.

The Forest vanished. They were in a field, and it was summer; the sun was brighter than Sirius had ever seen it. The smell of flowers was almost overwhelming. Remus turned to him, sweat already breaking out on his forehead in the unexpected heat.

`You see, now,' he said.

That was when he heard the music. Harps and fiddles and something else, something he'd never heard before- no, it was only singing, but no human had ever sung like that.

`There they are.' Remus pointed. `The faeries. Dancing.'

Dancing. Sirius felt light-headed. He took a step forward, and another, but Remus stopped him, grabbing him about the waist. `You can't. We have to go.'

He didn't want to go. How could Remus want to go? The singing was so beautiful.

And then the field was gone, and the cold hit him as if he'd been plunged into the frozen lake. Sirius staggered, barely taking in the satisfaction on Malfoy's face, and the exhilaration on Remus's.

`Why did you make us leave?' he whispered.

Remus had taken his foot out of the ring, and Sirius saw how close he had come to stepping inside it himself. Remus wiped his forehead, and released the Gryffindor.

`You can't go to the dance,' he explained. Grey eyes searched his. `I know,' Remus murmured. `I know how it breaks your heart not to, but you can't.'

Malfoy broke the moment, startling Sirius. `It's ours, Black. Don't tell anyone what you saw.'

The daze was lifting. Sirius glanced down at the ring, then back to Malfoy. `You must have been smoking them, if you think I'm going to listen to you.'

`It's time for supper,' Remus interrupted. `Let's go.'

Malfoy and Remus walked ahead of Sirius, talking quietly. Sirius lagged behind, frequently looking back. Already the memory of the field and the music was fading, and the experience felt surreal, like a- dream. A waking dream. There had been no field; how could there be a field in the middle of a forest? It had been- been an illusion. Malfoy was playing him for a fool, and Remus was going along with it. It hadn't been real.

`Shall we tell the others, then?' Remus asked him. They stood in the corridor on the second floor: Remus would go down to the dungeons, and Sirius had two more flights to climb to reach his dormitory.

Sirius took off his hat and stuffed it into a pocket. `Tell them what?' He caught a finger of his mittens in his teeth, and pulled it off his hand. `I didn't see anything but a bunch of stupid mushrooms.'

The look of betrayal on Remus's face was unexpectedly hard to face. Sirius turned his back, and left.

++

Severus reached for the bowl of mash, slopping a spoonful onto his plate, then doing the same for Remus. `You have to eat,' he whispered.

Remus sighed, and picked up his fork, desultorily poking the potatoes. `Just tired.'

`Balls.' But Severus didn't press it. He had lost his own appetite to worry: the first mid-term tests were only a few days away, and the discovery of the faerie ring the week before had distracted his study partner. Remus had even lost points in Defence Against the Dark Arts, his best class, for inattention.

Malfoy slid onto the bench across from them. `Beat it, Snape,' he snapped.

Remus scrubbed his eyes. `Could we skip this for once?'

`I said beat it.' Malfoy pulled a folded parchment from inside his robe. `Lupin, look at this. I had the librarian hunt it up for me.' About open it, Lucius gave Severus another nasty look. `Go stick your poxy nose in someone else's business.'

`Class in ten minutes,' Remus interrupted. `I already told him about the ring, anyway.'

`Fine.' Malfoy flicked an obscene gesture at Severus, and turned away from him pointedly. He spread out the parchment over the table, facing Remus. `According to this, law says that the Forbidden Forest doesn't actually belong to Hogwarts. I'll have to look into it a little more, but I think it means that since we were the finders of the ring, technically we own it and Hogwarts can't take it away from us.'

`It's not really something you can own, though, is it?' Remus fooled with a piece of toast, dipping the corner in his marmalade and then in his mash. `Technically, it belongs to those people. The dancers, whoever they are.'

`Only if they know it's there.'

`Why wouldn't they?' Severus asked. `If it goes both ways, maybe someone on their side have already discovered it. Maybe they put the ring there in the first place.'

`Why would they do that, smartie?' Lucius folded up his paper, obviously disappointed that Remus hadn't been more enthusiastic. `Who the bloody hell wants to have a doorway to the Forbidden Forest?'

`I have a free period later today,' Remus said. `I'll go the library and see what I can find. Maybe the ring has been there for a long time and someone wrote about it, even.'

Malfoy seemed to find that idea unappealing. `It's ours,' he repeated stubbornly.

Suddenly Remus smiled. `Yes,' he said, laying down his toast and wiping his hands on his robe. `Whatever you say, Lucius.'

Severus disliked Remus when he got in this sort of bad way; or at least, he disliked the bad way making his friend act as if he had his head in the clouds. Remus didn't even open his book in Potions, and when he added his grasshopper before the dried black cohosh, his cauldron emitted a foul-smelling steam that had the Gryffindors around them cracking crude jokes. Severus held his tongue out of loyalty, or at least until Remus nearly chopped off his own finger.

`Will you wake up,' he hissed, snatching the knife away. `This is on the test, and you can't afford to fail that.'

`I know. I'm sorry.' Remus gazed at his cauldron. `Though I'm certain to fail today.'

Mollified, Severus magnanimously waved that away. `We can go over it during our free period.'

Remus made an effort to straighten, and took back his knife. `No, I promised Lucius to research the faerie ring. Never mind the potion. You know I'm no good at them anyway.'

`The test-`

`Damnit, there will be other tests,' Remus burst. `Stop being such a bother!'

Severus stared at him. Remus turned a furious red, and looked blindly at the table. `I'm so sorry. That was- uncalled for.'

`A little less chatter, a little more concentration on your cauldrons, boys,' Professor Turbute said, clapping Remus on the back. He glanced into Severus's quietly bubbling potion, and beamed. `Excellent work. Right where it should be. Five points.'

For once, Severus took no pride in the praise of his work. Remus was not even bothering to hide the mess he had made; Turbute took a long look, and tugged at his paunch, but said only, `Kindly write me an essay on what you think went wrong, Mr Lupin. Due next class.'

`Sev,' Remus whispered, as soon as Turbute was out of earshot. `I'm really sorry.'

Gilbert Berdsley, a Gryffindor who sat at the table next to theirs, lobbed a handful of teasels at Remus. `Have the decency to run that out to the hallway, eh? It smells like you wet your pants! Which one of you darlings was it, eh?'

With a sigh, Remus raised his hand. `Professor? Can I please dump this out?'

`Please,' Turbute replied.

++

`Tylwyth teg,' said Remus.

Malfoy dropped his book back to the table. `Tully-what?'

`Tul-oo-ith teg,' Remus repeated slowly. `Elves. People under the hill.'

`Fat lot of good that does us, then,' Severus said, marking his page and closing his book. `Seeing as how those don't exist.'

`You've not seen them, yet. I bet they're as real as Cornish pixies.' Remus shrugged. `Aren't you the one who says there's always a gram of fact behind every fairy tale?'

`That was before he heard it was Welsh biddy-nonsense.' Lucius sighed and leaned back, fooling with his green necktie. `I'm not so sure I even care +what+ they are. This is too much like school work and not enough like fun.'

`You're not even curious?' Remus waved his hands. `You don't even want to +know+ what it is you saw? What we all saw!'

`No,' Lucius snapped. `I'm not curious. I thought it would be fun but it's not, and to make it worse, I'm hungry and the library smells and we still have class.'

Remus's mouth tightened, and he looked very deliberately back to his reading.

`That cuts it, then.' Lucius stood and shoved the books toward the opposite end of the table. `Let's go. Come on, Reemy.'

To his great annoyance, Remus was not a Severus, and had no problem saying "no" to his friends. `I'll stay through lunch, I think. There's a lot here and it might be helpful to know whom we're dealing with.'

Lucius had never had an especial lot of patience, and Remus often tried the little he did have. He leaned over the table, slapping his hands on it. `I said, let's go.'

Severus got to his feet. `I'll save you some food,' he said to his best friend, and nodded for Malfoy to follow. Scowling, Lucius did, glaring back over his shoulder.

`Maybe we should tell a teacher about it,' Severus hazarded.

`Shut your poxy face. It's a secret, you got that?' Lucius shoved the other boy. `Unbelievable. You really are a nark.'

`I don't need your permission to be in on this,' Severus retorted. `Remus said it was okay.'

`How long do you think I'm going to keep letting him run the show?' Lucius sneered. `+I'm+ the one who found it, anyway. I could make it so neither of you could go back.'

`How are you going to manage that? You can't even stop yourself trying to run off in the field.'

`I said shut it!'

`I think you both should shut it.' Sirius Black was standing in the hallway, talking to Candace Lumley, the Ravenclaw Prefect. He was grinning. `Look at you. It's a regular hen party.'

`Stuff it,' Malfoy retorted. `Or have you already gotten her to do that? I suppose it's not much of a wonder they never come back for more.'

`Watch your mouth,' Candace said. `I'll take points away.'

`Listen to her, Malfoy.' James had come jogging down the corridor, accompanied by Ammar El- Abiad, the captain of his Quidditch team. Ammar cast Malfoy a disinterested look, and put his arm around Sirius's shoulders. James was grinning.

Lucius Malfoy was smart enough to know when he was outnumbered. He put his chin in the air, and shrugged with affected nonchalance. `Should have realised you Gryffindors travelled in herds. I'll just collect Lupin, then, and we'll be off.' He tried to catch Sirius's eyes. `We were just heading outside,' he added.

Severus glanced between them. It was no secret in Hogwarts that the famous Potter and Black duo bore no love for the Malfoys. That James was kind to him and Sirius was not had more than once tested Severus's cautious acceptance of Remus's friends. And Malfoy was certainly not kind, but he was at least a proper Slytherin.

`Reemy?' James abandoned his antagonistic pose. `He's in the library? I wanted to talk to him.' He brushed past Severus and Malfoy and disappeared past the doors.

`Still chasing faeries?' Sirius sneered. `Some of us outgrow those kiddie fancies.'

`Your life must be very empty, then,' said Remus, coming out with James. Severus needed only a glance to see that Remus was still very angry with Sirius Black, for pretending not to have believed in the faerie ring. Remus then told his Housemates, `Don't worry about saving me lunch. I'm going to the field. And Lucius-` He handed Malfoy a small, slender tome. `You might read up, if you can stay awake.'

++

Remus kicked idly at one of the bludgers. `I'm not angry, precisely. I just want him to tell the truth. He did see it, I know he did.'

James was sanding a spur out of his broom, his head bent over the work so that his eyes were as close to the wood as possible. `He swears all he saw were some mushrooms. He says you put your foot in and you and Malfoy pretended that something happened.'

Remus picked up the bludger, and sat beside James on the bench. `Come see it for yourself, then.'

James sighed and laid his broom across his lap. `To be honest, I don't want to get in the middle of it.'

`Oh, that's fair, James!' Remus threw the bludger, knocking over the lid of its carrying trunk, and upset himself into a fit of coughing. `Lucius was right... we should have kept it to ourselves.'

James Potter chewed his left thumbnail, examining his younger friend. After the first Christmas, it had seemed that things might finally go well between all of his friends. But it had lasted only a few months. Lucius Malfoy had taken a permanent interest in Remus Lupin, and while that had prompted James to declare peace, Sirius had not followed his example. A good four weeks of open warfare had resulted in grudging apologies, and James had felt that the tenuous truce needed only a little time to solidify. But summer had come too soon, and Sirius had started the year more entrenched in his attitudes than ever before.

Remus rubbed his eyes. `I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I didn't mean to be rude.'

`It's okay,' he replied. `You're under a lot of stress.'

It seemed to him that Remus glanced at the sky, but before he could chase down the thought, Remus gave himself a shake, and said, `I have something for you.' He grabbed his knapsack from the seat below him, and felt around in the back pocket. `I snuck down to Hogsmeade two days ago. I was looking for- well, that doesn't matter. I found these quite by accident.' He held up a thin, long tin box.

James took it. `What are they?' He pried up the lid, and tilted the box into the light. He took out a pencil, and held it up.

`They're special,' Remus said, scooting closer to him and taking a notebook from his pack. `Look at this.' He took one of the pencils, and sketched a rough outline.

`That's the pitch,' James guessed.

`Right. Now let me see the lid.' Remus traded him the pencil for it, and read the tiny black words printed inside on the tin. `I make up a password... `

`How about "Go Gryffindors,"' he laughed.

Remus grinned. `"Go Gryffindors." And then I say the charm to set it.' He fished his wand out of his bag, and lightly tapped the notebook. `Deliquescere extemplo.'

The thin streaks of pencil disappeared.

James let out a delighted gasp. `Look at that! That's really solid!'

Remus wasn't finished. `This is the best part. Look.' He laid his wand down, and held the notebook in both hands. `I say the password- "Go Gryffindors"-`

`It's back!' James grabbed the notebook to examine it. `Remus, that's so awesome!'

`I figure it's as good a way to hide the map as anything,' the other boy replied, pleased with James's reaction.

`It sure is. Come back to the dorms, let's show the others.' James replaced the lid and leaned to pack up his Quidditch gear. `Ought to lift everyone's spirits, what with the midterm exams coming up.'

`It's only lunch break, remember?' Remus pulled a loose thread off his bag. `Still have class til supper.'

`Come over tonight, then.'

Remus became absorbed in winding the thread around his finger, watching the tip turn red. `I can't, tonight. But take them with you, and you show them.'

James sat. `Your mother ill again, is she?' he asked cannily. He noted the flush that coloured Remus's ears. `You know, for someone who lies as much as you do, you're not very good at it.'

`I don't know what you're talking about.'

`Was she ever really sick?' James put his hand on Remus's knee. `Do you really think I'd hate you for making things up? Reemy, you're my friend. I don't care what excuse you give. I just worry.'

Remus pulled away. `I have to go, James. I'll see you later.' He threw his bag over his shoulder, and took off across the field.

++

`Deliquescere extemplo,' James said, and they watched the pencil lines disappear.

`I like it,' Sirius approved. `Where'd you find them?'

`I didn't, Remus did. At Hogsmeade, he didn't mention where.'

`I thought he was poor.' Sirius took one of the pencils, examining the lead. `These must have been expensive.'

`He's been earning a little extra lately. I got him a job tutoring one of the girls in Hufflepuff. She's a bit of a fancy for him, so she doesn't mind passing him a little coin.'

`Playing matchmaker? He's only a wee babee.'

`No younger than you when you entered the Great Hormone Rage. Only, you always claimed you were older.' James replaced the pencils and the lid. `Do you think his mother is really ill?'

`He told me she got married again over summer holiday.' Sirius folded the experimental parchment into a paper plane, and launched it. `He got baptized and everything for it.'

`If she were so bad off that he needs to go home every month to see her, it would be hard to meet a new bloke, wouldn't it.' James leaned back against the pillows of his bed. `What do you reckon is the real problem?'

`He's the sick one, isn't he.' Sirius fetched his hackey sack, and stood beside the bed, bouncing it on one foot. `I reckon he goes home to have mummy take care of him.'

James did not lightly betray his friends, and Remus had made it clear that prying was treachery of the worst sort. With a sigh, James dropped it.

Peter came in, wrapped in a dripping robe and holding a soaking book before him. `Hello,' he said mournfully.

`Ah, Petey, what'd you do now?' Sirius asked, taking the book from him and dropping it before the stove. `Is that your Herbology text?'

`Had an accident,' Peter wheezed, falling into his bed. `Taking a nap now. Detention at seven.'

James and Sirius exchanged a long look. `I have a chart to make for Arithmancy, anyway,' James said softly. `Ought to get going on that.'

`Not bloody homework again. Am I the only Gryffindor who believes in freedom, anymore?'

`You're also the only one who has to bat his eyelashes at his professors to make passing marks, too.' James pulled his books from his trunks. `Keep me company in the common room, then.'

Sirius had managed to settle into relative silence, and James worked slowly, biting his lower lip between his teeth. Six o'clock became seven, and Peter went dashing past, late to his detention, and then it became eight, and James finally sat back with a sigh, stretching the kinks out of his neck. `Blimey, but I'm sick of this.'

`About time.' Sirius launched to his feet. `I might have imploded if I'd had to sit there longer.'

Peter's Herbology text had started to smell. James gingerly moved it to the stove farthest away from his bed, and climbed into the window seat with a blanket. It was a cloudy night, and he searched for the moon.

Sirius sat beside him, and suddenly pointed. `Look. It's Lupin.'

James had to squint and remove his glasses, but sure enough, he recognised Remus's hair, looking red in the light of his lantern and badly wanting for a trimming. For a moment, it seemed that Remus turned and looked directly up at him; but the moment passed, and James unconsciously relaxed.

`You think he's going to the Forest?' he asked.

`I thought he was going home. It's his day, isn't it?'

James ran through quick calculations on his fingers. `Been about a month, yeah. And he outright told me he couldn't come over tonight.'

`I can't figure him out.' Sirius turned his back to the window, and so did not see Remus stop at the edge of the strange new tree, the huge willow that James couldn't remember having seen before last year. `I'm not so sure I even want to. He goes out to visit that stupid fairy tale of his and he'll collapse on top of the bloody thing for pneumonia.'

James was quiet for a while, watching Remus blow out his lantern and disappear into the darkness. `He was never given to fancies like that. I wonder.'

`Wonder what?'

`Nothing. I just wonder.'

++

He awoke when strength wrapped around him and lifted him. His face fell against a warm, bristly beard that, to his sensitive nose, smelled of clove tobacco and apple cider and the turkey served at dinner the night before. The odours confused him- there was a heavy musk, his own scent, but he smelled humans, a man and woman. Blood. Strange blood, not his. A boy's blood. When he opened swollen eyes, pain lanced them. Colours. He remembered them, but oh, they weren't right, they weren't right. The light burned.

Water brought him back to consciousness. That which held him laid him in the water, and the sudden warmth where he had been so cold was a shock that woke him too quickly. He struggled, flailing with his paws- hands- and water flooded his mouth and nose.

`Shhh,' the man whispered. A hand rubbed his back gently. `Shhh.'

The smells were fading, his senses longer so acute. He opened his eyes, and felt dim recognition of the faces that leaned over him. Headmaster. Dum... Dum... And the woman. She reminded him of flowers.

She was rubbing his feet and calves, returning feeling to them and helping him re-learn the shape of them. Their voices sounded so fuzzy as they told him how to walk, held him up and guided his steps. When he could stand on his own they dressed him in soft cotton somethings, and the lady brushed his hair. They fed him something that tasted like bitter leaves, and it made him very tired.

`Sleep, Remus.'

He did.

++

Like everyone else at Hogwarts School of Magical Education, Severus Snape believed that Remus left school every three weeks to visit his ailing mother. There had never been any reason to question that belief, and James Potter did not give the Slytherin any reason to suspect else. Satisfied that Snape had told the truth- so far as he knew it- James left the Slytherin common room, and joined Sirius and Peter in the hallway. He shook his head, and the three of them trudged up the stairs to the more populated levels.

`If he didn't leave the school last night,' James brooded, `and he's not in the Forest and he's not in his room, where the bloody hell could he be?'

`I think,' Peter started- but he was cut off by Sirius.

`He obviously doesn't want us to know, does he? I think he's just off having a sulk because you won't believe him either. He's probably having pretend tea with the Queen of the Elves right now.'

`But maybe he's already back from the Forest,' Peter tried again.

`Did anyone think to check the Library?' James stuffed his hands into his pockets. `Bugger.'

`Library doesn't open til one on Saturdays.'

`Hello!' Peter jumped in front of them, waving his hand in the air. `I think I know where he is! Listen to me!'

James blinked down at him. `No need to shout, Petey.'

`Sick people go to the infirmary,' Peter told them, ignoring that. `Remus always goes to the infirmary when he comes back from his mother's.'

`How do you know that, eh?' Sirius took Peter's fleshy arm. `Are you sure?'

`I am sure. He told me so once.'

James had not been aware of Remus and Peter ever having much to say to each other. `You're absolutely sure he told you that?'

`Do you want to find him or no?'

James glanced at Sirius. `Lead the way, then, Petey.'

Young Madame Pomfrey, the pretty new nurse hired on last year, expressed reservations about allowing a group of rambunctious boys into her domain. `I'll have to ask Remus,' she said, and held them at the door with a stern look that old Headmaster Dippet would have been hard-pressed to duplicate. Her heels rapped sharp as gunfire on the stone floor as she disappeared behind a curtain screen.

James wiped damp palms on the inside of his robe. He was aware of Peter and Sirius, but only dimly. It seemed to him that there was something he should be thinking of, a puzzle piece he should be completing the puzzle with. But it was beyond him. When Madame Pomfrey reappeared to beckon them, James ran to the bed.

Remus looked only very tired, rather than very ill, which seemed to confirm Sirius's version of things. Dark circles made the grey of Remus's irises seem almost purple, and Remus curled in his blankets like the small boy he was. He summoned a small smile for James, and Sirius and Peter who came up more slowly.

`Hallo,' he said. `Good morning.'

`Didn't go home this time?' James asked.

Madame Pomfrey had not left. `Speed it along, boys. I won't have you tiring my patient.'

Peter was the only one whose head had not automatically turned toward the voice of authority, and so he was the only one to see the relief in Remus's expression. Naturally a nervous child, and often overmatched by his more out-going friends Sirius and James, Peter had learnt that holding his tongue nevertheless had its uses. He noticed the look, and filed it away to consider another day.

James hesitated, hoping the nurse would give them a little space. After a long minute's frowning, she sighed and did indeed walk away, pointedly folding sheets only a few beds away. It would half to be enough. James took Remus's hand, meaning to speak, and found the bandages.

Remus snatched his hand away. `I fell,' he said, pulling the sleeve of his pajamas top down to hide the gauze. `You see, I-`

`In the Forest. No wonder, if you didn't even bring your lantern in with you.'

Remus stared. `You...'

Sirius took up station on the other side of the bed. `We saw you go in last night. It would be worse than detention if you were caught. Or if you weren't- you know what runs about there at night? They might never have found you.'

Remus licked chapped lips, avoiding James's eyes. `You weren't to know.'

`Well, now we do.' James chewed a fingernail. `Look, Reemy. Here's the thing. If it means so much to you- I want to see it.'

`See... see what?'

`The faerie ring. I want you to show me the faerie ring, Remus. Us, that is.' He paused, looking for some sign in the boy's manner. `We believe you.'

`Do you, then?' Remus wrapped his arms around his chest, and now he seemed released from some great tension. He flicked a glance to Sirius. `I'm glad.'

Sirius looked away.

`Will you take us then?' James glimpsed Madame Pomfrey checking the water clock on her desk, and stood. `Tonight, if you're feeling better?'

Remus said, `I will. Tonight. Thanks.'

Peter told him, `I have some chocolate frogs. I'll bring some back to you, shall I? I've had the food here, and you'll be right tired of soup by lunch.'

Remus smiled. `Thanks, Peter.'

Shooed out of the infirmary by a very insistent Madame Pomfrey, Sirius pushed the sleeves of his favourite jumper up his arms, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. `What'd you promise that for?'

`The chocolate frogs?' Peter's eyes grew wide. `I didn't know I wasn't supposed to.'

`Not the frogs,' Sirius snapped. `I don't want to go see the damned mushrooms!'

`I'm not having this argument,' James returned. `He's our friend and it's our job to believe him if he says he comes from Mars and he's made of cheese.'

`That's the moon, you idjit.'

`Whatever. So you'll come, and you'll act like you see whatever he tells you to see. Same for you, Peter.'

Peter, startled, nodded earnestly.

`Good,' James said. `And that's the end of it.'

Sneaking off the grounds after dinner was no hardship, not for experienced sneaks like the four of them. Remus led the way, shivering in his tatty old coat and rubbing his eyes for weariness. Peter kept up a high-pitched monologue, staring off at every tiny noise in the forest around them. Sirius, studiously ignoring all of them and stumping along with his chin against his chest, muttered to himself and threw dirty looks at the wet mulch that was slowly freezing his toes.

`Here it is.'

It was the same place as before, crowded with the four of them so that they had to nearly lean against the surrounding trees to avoid stepping on the oddly glowing mushrooms.

`Look at that,' James said stoutly. `That's right interesting, isn't it, Petey?'

`Oh. Yes.'

Remus sighed, and held out his hands. `James, take hold, and you too, Peter. Sirius, take my belt. Don't anyone let go for any reason, any reason at all. Stand absolutely still.'

They obeyed, gathering round him. Sirius suffered a moment's doubt as he wrapped his fingers around the worn leather at Remus's waist; but he buried it. Remus would be humiliated when nothing happened, and then after a few days he'd find something else to make him happy, and all this would be over. Over and completely forgotten.

`All right,' Remus said, and stuck his foot into the centre of the ring.

The four boys disappeared, and a startled bird chittered angrily and flew from the clearing.


	5. 1975 : Fall

Lucius rolled onto his stomach and tossed the book at his footboard, enjoying the flinch from Crabbe's direction. `Bunch of bloody rubbish,' he shouted. `What are you looking at?'

Goyle picked up the book, frowning as he read the cover. Lucius, sneering, jibed, `Sound it out.'

Goyle cast him a look of muted animosity. `What are you reading it for? Wasn't assigned in class.' He tossed it back to the bed.

`None of your business.' Lucius could only imagine the damage oafs like his roommates would do to the faerie ring. He had no plans to tell them, though Remus had asked if he'd wanted to. They'd probably be too stupid to see the field, anyway. He picked up the book again, smoothing the creases his fit of temper had put in the yellowed pages. `Don't you have someone to beat up, somewhere?'

Goyle exchanged glances with Crabbe, and as one- a very fat and ignorant one- they left.

The silence seemed massive to Lucius, who bored easily and was struggling under the yoke Remus had laid on him. `Read up,' he muttered, burying his head under a pillow. `Stay awake.' Remus was in a mood, lately. Telling him what to do, as if he had a right to order him around. Acting as if the Malfoy family name counted for nothing!

He sat up, and grabbed the book, opening it to the chapter he'd been reading before it had become unbearable. `"Living with the tul- tully-oo-` He sighed. `Closely akin to the subject of changelings is that of adults or well-grown children being led away to live with the tull- shit. In this field the Welsh traditions are innumerable, and deal not only with the last century or two, but distinctly with the middle ages. Famed among British goblins are those faeries which are immortalised in the Tale of Shui Rhys, told to me by a peasant in Cardiganshire. Shui was a beautiful girl of seventeen, tall and fair, with a skin like ivory, hair black and curling, and eyes of dark velvet..."'

A nice picture. The author seemed quite taken. Lucius laid the book against his knees and drew a candle nearer.

`She was but a poor farmer's daughter, notwithstanding her beauty, and among her duties was that of driving up the cows for the milking. Over this work she used to loiter sadly, to pick flowers by the way, or chase the butterflies, or amuse herself in any agreeable manner that fortune offered.'

Lucius could imagine. He'd caught Beatrice Snape `amusing' herself once in the bathroom, late at night. If the noises Snape had been making were any indication, it was a hell of a lot more fun than herding stupid old sheeps.

`"For her loitering she was often chided; indeed, people said Shui's mother was far too sharp with the girl, and that it was for no good the mother had so bitter a tongue. After all, the girl meant no harm, they said. But when one night Shui never came home til bed time, leaving the cows to care for themselves, dame Rhys took the girl to task as she never had done before."'

He fumbled on the next word. How could you have a language that was all vowels? All mushy- sounding.

Ysgwaetheroedd, mami, said Shui. I couldn't help it, it was the tylwyth teg. The dame was aghast at this, but she could not answer it- for well she knew the tylwyth teg were often seen in the woods of Cardigan. Shui was at first shy about talking of the faeries, but finally confessed they were little men in green coats, who danced around her and made music on their tiny harps and sang strange songs; and they talked to her in a language too beautiful to be repeated; indeed she couldn't understand the words, though she knew well enough what the faeries meant. Many a time after that Shui was late; but now nobody chided her, for fear of offending the faeries. At last, one night, Shui did not come home at all. In alarm the woods were searched, but there was no sign of her; and never was she seen again in Cardiganshire. Her mother watched in the fields on Teir-nos Ysprydion or three nights of the year when goblins are sure to be abroad, but Shui never returned. Once indeed there came back to the village a wild rumour that Shui Rhys had been seen in a great city in a foreign land- Paris, perhaps, or London, who knows? But this tale was in no way injurious to the sad belief that the faeries had carried her off; they might take her to those well known centres of idle and sinful pleasure, as well as to any other place.

`So she got tired of fooling around in that one-horse town and ran while she could,' Lucius mused. `So much for the faeries. Backwater people making up fancy stories to explain curdled milk.' Idly, he flipped the pages, glancing over sketches provided by illiterate peasants. The images ran from tiny men with a goat's hindquarters to tall, thin creatures with pointy ears and lots of long blonde hair who were jigging merrily. Some carried staves, and others strange amulets. But in all the accounts, no matter how varied, the creatures wore green coats, he realised, and for a moment, doubt pricked him.

But no. He was starting to agree with Severus Snape. All the tales ended the same way; the children were always servants or down-trodden younger sons and dowerless daughters, and there were always glimpses of look-alikes in the nearest big cities. It seemed pretty clear what the truth was. Maybe he'd imagined the music- or it had come from something else entirely. Like erklings. His father had used to frighten him with tales of German erklings, who lured children away to eat them.

`Dancing and music... dancing... ` Lucius sighed, his eyes skipping over the pages. `"Welsh faeries are most often seen dancing together when seen. They seek to entice mortals to dance with them, and when anyone is drawn to do so, it is more than probable he will not return to his friends for a long time. Edmund William Rees, of Aberystruth, was thus drawn away... came back at the year's end looking very badly... said he'd been dancing... They got him home finally, but he was never the same man again, and soon after he-"`

Lucius read it again, stunned. He turned the page, and saw he had not been mistaken. `"In the great majority of these stories the victim dies immediately after his release from the thralldom of the faeries- in some cases with a suddenness and a completeness of obliteration as appalling as dramatic."'

The picture below showed a circle of mushrooms very like the one in the Forest, and as he watched, a man stumbled from it as if ejected with great force, and crumbled into a pile of ashes beside the ring.

Lucius sprung out of his bed and threw open the door, sprinting down the hallway to Room 5. He furiously pounded the door, and shouted, `Lupin!'

`He's gone away,' Snape said, from the open doorway of his dormitory. `Which you'd have remembered if you ever bothered to pay attention.'

Snape was right, of course. `When did he leave?'

`A few hours ago.' Snape scratched his cheek, then nodded to the book Lucius held. `That the one he gave you?'

`I don't remember asking you to strike up a conversation, turkey.' He was conscious, suddenly, of looking a fool, and attempted to surreptitiously straight his shirt. `Get back to bed.'

Snape scowled, but slammed the door and did not come out again.

Lucius went back to his room, and found parchment and a quill from his desk. He wrote a quick note of explanation, and ripped the page out of the book, folding it into his paper. He snuck quickly back down the hallway, and slid the note under Remus's door.

++

James tried to shake off his hand, and Remus gripped harder, grinding their sweaty palms together. `Stay where you are, please. None of you move.'

Peter's voice was hushed, and squeaked with nervousness. `Where are we?'

`I'm not exactly sure,' Remus admitted. He glanced up at the sky- the stars were unfamiliar, brighter even than in the country, and the sky was cloudless. The waning moon was so clear it burned like the sun.

Sirius moved closer to him, and his other hand came up to grip his belt. Remus felt calmer at that, and eased his hold on Peter and James. `We really shouldn't stay. It's too dangerous.'

`There's no music,' Sirius said.

`There is. Can't you hear it?'

Saying it was like throwing a switch. It swept around them, a whirlwind of harp and voices and fiddles and flutes. The boys drew closer to him at first, then strained against them. Remus looked up at James, and the look on the Gryffindor's face made him catch his breath. It was the most painful longing; and Peter looked the same, and Sirius. He could feel the excitement leaking from them, and saw how they stiffened, and even swayed with it.

He had hesitated too long, studying his friends. Like the break of a wave on the beach, the dance came to them.

It seemed there were all sorts of fantastical creatures, hundreds of them and all of them different, all of them shining and laughing. The dance did not approach them, but seemed to appear around them as if it had always been there. Hands with impossibly long fingers reached out to them, attempting to snag them and draw them in. Remus renewed his grip and held on as tightly as he could, straining against the weight of three bigger boys as the dancers pulled at his friends and tried to break his hold. Sirius he lost immediately, whom he had no way to hold. He yelled, and his voice was swallowed up in the dance.

He threw himself out of the ring, and he, James and Peter collapsed to the ground. Peter let out a little wail, but broke off, confused. `What-`

The cold was debilitating. The sweat that had drenched his back and chest from the effort of resisting the dancers turned to ice, and the cold burst into his lungs like a sledgehammer so that he couldn't breathe with it. James scrambled to his feet, then knelt and grabbed his shoulders.

`Sirius!'

Must go back. Remus used James for support and made it to his knees. `Stay where you are! If you go back you'll just be lost too.'

`We can't leave him there.' James hauled him to his feet. `We're going back!'

`Stay here! I can't hold both of you.' He pushed James further away from the ring, then turned and made a wild nab at the other boy. `Petey, no!'

They faced each other, steam rising from them and the silence deafening them.

`I'm going with you,' James said.

Remus nodded slowly. He could see there would be no arguing, and something churning in his stomach told him there wasn't time. `Peter,' he murmured. `Stay here. Don't move an inch, promise me, not even to go for help.'

Peter presented him a shaking hand, and solemnly Remus linked their pinkie fingers, and they shook.

This time James took his hand voluntarily. `I don't suppose it would help if we plugged our ears,' he said.

`I couldn't tell you,' Remus replied, and tugged apprehensively at his scarf. Something was tugging at him, some half-read sentence he knew he ought to remember.

But there wasn't time.

The field was silent when they appeared in it; the dance had moved on. James turned this way and that, trying to see. Where the sky had been clear before, now it was not, and there were no stars at all, no moon, no light. Everything was like a void, and the heat was oppressive.

`What do we do now?' James hissed, yanking at his hand.

`You're asking me?' He pulled at the scarf, then shook his jacket away from his free arm and pushed up the sleeves of his layered shirts, already unbearably overheated. James hesitated, then followed suit.

`Here,' he said, and tied one sleeve each of their jackets together. `Now tie it to your belt. That way we'll have our hands if we need them.'

Remus obeyed quickly, but nonetheless longed for the strength of the older boy's hand. `I guess we'll have to search him out,' he whispered.

`How far does the field go? How far did you and Malfoy explore?'

He felt ashamed as he admitted they had not. `It didn't seem smart. I always wanted to keep one foot in the ring...'

`You have one in now?'

Remus glanced down. Sure enough, there were the mushrooms.

James was still searching with his eyes, though without light it was impossible to see more than a foot away. `Is there any chance that those- people- will come back here?'

`I have no idea.' He hesitated, and added, `Somehow I don't think they will. I think they have what they want and... and they don't care about m- us.'

James came closer to him. `What are they doing with him?'

There was no way of knowing.

`If we stay near the ring,' he said, as if the other question hadnever been asked, `we should be okay. Let's just be careful.'

And so they set off.

++

Peter huddled between the roots of a tree, watching the faerie ring and the surrounding woods with equal trepidation. It had been a very long time since the others had disappeared. He wasn't sure, but he thought the darkness wasn't so deep as it had been a few minutes ago- was it dawn? How long was he really supposed to wait? Remus had said not to move at all, but what if they never came back? What was he supposed to do once it was day time and people noticed they were missing?

No one would notice whether Peter showed up, he was bitterly sure of that. But there was sure to be a ruckus if James and Sirius were gone. The teachers would think they were up to no good and probably they would all get detentions. Endless detentions. He'd never graduate.

And a small, young, hurt part of Peter Pettigrew wished they had taken him with them.

++

`There,' James exclaimed, pointing. Remus turned from where he gazed to his left, and saw what James had- a light where none had been before.

`That's them, I know it's them.' James took off running, and Remus, tied to him by their coats, had no choice but to stumble after. James did not slow to accommodate him, but grabbed his hand without looking back and pulled him along. They were hurtling down a hill that hadn't been there before, and Remus caught a whiff of flowers as he desperately inhaled, his lungs rebelling strenuously against the strain on his weak body.

James came to an abrupt stop, bending over his knees in a pant, and Remus fell to a knee beside him, giving way to a fit of coughing so strong that his friend grabbed at him. Something wet leaked down his chin, blood or snot he didn't know, and he hovered on the verge of fainting.

`Remus,' James worried. `Calm down!'

The fit passed, but it left him dazed and vaguely aching. James was hovering over him, the back of his hand pressed to Remus's cheeks and temples, feeling for fever. He pushed the bigger boy away.

`Let's keep moving,' he said hoarsely. He stood, wiping his face, and headed toward the source of the light, half-hidden from sight behind tall trees that... had they sprung up only when he and James reached the bottom of the hill? Branches seemed to slap them in the face and roots rose up to snag their feet; but something told Remus it was all too easy. He put a hand on the knot that bound him to James.

No sooner had he done so did they clear the trees, and saw the dance.

The source of the light was a huge bonfire, and the creatures moved around it, singing and laughing. Some sat in small groups, passing around jugs and talking in high, animated voices.

Remus gripped the knot tightly. `Don't let them separate us. Don't join the dance.'

James nodded tensely. `I think I see him.'

Remus searched. `Where?'

`Far side.'

It seemed to be Sirius. Head and shoulders taller than the creatures he whirled about with. Dark hair. And Remus thought... it sounded like Sirius's laughter on the breeze.

`He's coming round, then,' James said. `If we got close enough, we could grab him and- make a run for it.'

James was sweating heavily; Remus could smell it on him. Clearly the music was affecting him. He watched the blue eyes he knew so well flicker back and forth, distracted by the performance. `Good plan,' he replied, and walked forward boldly.

As soon as they moved out of the shadows, the tylwyth teg called to them. Some came close and others waved from where they were. The words they used were unintelligible, though whether it was because the whole bonfire was so noisy or because it was a language the boys had never heard, it was impossible to tell. James grabbed Remus's arm when two laughing faeries tried to snatch him by his shirt.

They were near enough to the fire now to feel the blaze of it. The creatures were dancing in a circle around it, their hands linked and their heads thrown back in obvious exhilaration. James and Remus had to fend off reaching hands at every turn, fighting to stay close to the circle and yet far enough away to resist being drawn into it.

`I see him!' Remus fought off a woman who had caught him by the waist and pointed. `Get ready.'

It was Sirius, but Sirius transformed by light and laughter. There was no sign of the mischief or the anger that so marked his person. He looked drunk on happiness, and something caught in Remus's throat, watching him.

James lunged and fastened a hold on the back of Sirius's shirt. Remus was dragged along by their tied jackets, and then threw himself forward and caught the closest arm. Faces that had been laughing were suddenly sinister, screaming at him furiously. Sirius was resisting them. Remus clawed at the hands that refused to release the other boy, then gave up and lashed out at the nearest faerie with his fist. Something reeled back, and James fell with Sirius, loose and on top of him.

Remus tripped to his knees beside them, and pulled at them, shouting, `Get up! Get up, please!'

Sirius had gone limp, staring about him in confusion. James stumbled to his feet, and he and Remus each took hold of his arms and levered him to his feet. They ran, dodging the tylwyth teg when they suddenly reared up before their path.

There were no trees, anymore.

It was hard to tell if they were being chased. The music seemed to follow them, but every time he turned to look behind him, there was only the pitch darkness.

`Where's the ring,' James panted, stopping them and crouching. Remus helped him pull Sirius up onto his broad back, and tied their belts together with his own jacket. Then he stepped back, staring around them, and wished suddenly for the wand he had left in his room.

`I don't suppose you have yours,' he said.

`My what?' With a grunt, James stood, grabbing at Sirius's legs and leaning forward to keep him from sliding.

About to reply, Remus felt something smoosh under his foot. The field disappeared.

He lurched and sat suddenly on the ground.

He wasn't in the Forbidden Forest. He was in a hay barn.

++

Peter washed his face quickly in the water fountain, pinching his cheeks to wake himself. He'd caught a bit of a nap back in the dorm, but it hadn't helped much. He sighed as he wiped his hands on his robe, and looked down at the essay he'd forgotten to finish, due in Potions on Monday.

One of the other first years gave him a bit of nod when he slouched out of the common room, and Peter went straight to his desk and lay his head on his folded arms. He closed his eyes- just for a moment- so tired....

He supposed James and the others had gotten back safely by now and only strayed to the kitchen to do a bit of decent raiding. He should have been smart enough to join them. It really wasn't fair; though he did wonder what excuse they would think up to explain their absence. No sane Hogwarts teacher trusted Sirius Black and James Potter getting sick at the same time, there was no surer spell for disaster.

He wondered what they would say to him. Remus had told him not to leave the Forest, after all.

But he'd been cold, and afraid.

James and Sirius were never afraid.

Peter fell asleep wondering if they would think him a coward, after all.

++

`Remus?' James had glanced up to find Remus missing, and a needle prick- something rather larger than just a prick- of doubt stabbed him.

Sirius stirred, murmured something against his shoulder, and fell back into silence.

`Buggered,' James said softly.

++

Severus swung by Remus's room after dinner with the tarts he had saved wrapped in a napkin in his backpack. Not expecting his friend to be there, but knowing he left the door unlocked, Severus entered. The darkness of the room bothered him; he crossed to the desk, tripping on a sock, and touched his wand to the candle stub sitting in the left corner of the writing surface.

A note caught his attention. Without a trace of hesitation he picked it up and read it.

Sir, Will see that next batch is more timely. Forgive the wait. Dr. Cuffari

Severus knew what the note referred to. He had known for some time, in fact, and knowing the import of the secret both thrilled and frightened him. He had never told Remus what he knew... what he'd guessed... He knew Remus would be upset. And it was more than that. A secret, a real secret that held- held life and death over someone real, and it was his--

He replaced the note, tucked under the edge of an empty parchment packet that still retained its original folds and a faint smell of wolfsbane, and left the tarts beside them.

He closed the door behind him as he left.

++

Remus thrashed about in the hay, desperate to uncover the mushroom ring that surely had to be there. The mould and dust that rose in gusts around made him cough and clogged his nose. He didn't see the ledge before he went over it, and the split second he was airborne was enough to wring a shout of panic from him. Then he landed- and bounced, saved from harm by the deep layer of straw and grass that covered the ground.

Remus lay still for a moment, his skin crawling and ribs aching, and stared up into the musty eaves of the barn roof.

`Who's there?' Somewhere behind him the barn door banged open, and a man's voice with a strange accent called out aggressively. `Come out before I call the police!'

I have no idea where I am, Remus thought.

`I said come out!' The man was searching now with a hand torch, shining it around. Heavy booted footsteps were coming closer to where Remus lay, and he realised dimly that the man would hear if he tried to cover himself. The tall sides of the hole his landing had created might hide him from someone less determined to find him, but what if the man didn't give up?

`Probably just an animal, Dad,' a new voice said. Younger, Remus thought. A girl. `Come on. Truck's here.'

`I heard something, I'm telling you,' retorted the first. He came a little farther into the barn, and poked around in the hay. `Go back to the house and tell your mother to call the police.'

Remus held his breath, staring up at the motes of dust swirling in the beam of light from the torch.

`Dad!' The torch was turned off. `Just leave it. It was probably that same racoon. Would you get in the truck?'

Still bickering, they moved away, and Remus released his breath and relaxed. The squeal of tyres was a signal for him to move, and he clambered out of his hole and fought his way to a ladder leaning against the loft.

Once he was back at the top, he was more careful now in brushing away the hay. He searched with his hands along the boards of the loft for the mushrooms. How could mushrooms grow out of wood? Where had he been standing when he'd left the field?

A growth of fungus in the corner, in the leftovers of some ancient nest. Remus gave only a moment over to doubt that the ring would lead to some other strange place, or might not be the real ring at all, before he stepped into it.

He was returned to the field, only there was no James.

`This can't be happening,' he said to himself. His voice was curiously dead in the air, swallowed up immediately without any resonation. The effect was creepy. He hugged himself, and stepped safely away from the ring.

He raised his voice, steeled himself, and shouted, `James! James! Sirius!'

There was no immediate answer, as he had hoped, and for a second Remus was ready to give it all in to despair.

`Remus?'

He gasped, whirling toward the voice. `Jamie!'

And out of the dark came his friend, and Remus had never been so glad to see anyone in his life.

`Thought I'd lost you for a second there,' James said, relieved. He gave a grunt and hefted Sirius on his back. `Is that the ring?'

++

Remus told James what had happened as they walked, imitating the voices.

`American?' James mused. `My pop had a man over to dinner once who talked funny like that. An American wizard.'

`That means these rings could go anywhere in all the world,' Remus worried. `And we could step into any one of them.'

`Don't borrow panic.' James heaved Sirius up where, dead weight, he had begun to slip. `We didn't walk all that far, did we? And you were only gone for a second when you slipped into that last one.'

`I already told you, I was there at least a quarter hour,' Remus replied, out of sorts. Then he stopped walking. `Wait- just a moment? You're sure?'

James halted as well. `I looked up and you were gone, yeah. I took a few steps to look for you, and when I turned back there you were.'

`Time...' Remus stuck a knuckle in his mouth, biting thoughtfully. `Magic.'

Sirius was slipping again. `I suggest that it's something to think about when we're safely back at Hogwarts.'

`If we ever arrive.'

`You'll get buck teeth if you don't take your bloody hand out of your mouth,' James said. `Come on. We have to be close.'

Close was an understatement. A mere yard from them was revealed another circle of large, round-headed fungi. Remus, unable to shake his new sense of trepidation, nonetheless indicated that he should go first. `If nothing else,' he said, screwing up his courage, `if it's not the right one, it'll only seem a second to you before I come back to tell you so.'

James cracked a crooked smile. `When this is all over,' he said, `I'm going to give you a good whipping; you know that, right?'

His eyes went to Sirius, who had yet to wake. `I'm so sorry, James, I didn't know...'

`Hush.' James gave him a comforting nod. `Get on with you. Sooner we get back, the sooner we can wallow in our mistakes.'

The icy wall that battered him as he emerged from the ring stung his eyes and throat. Remus threw a hand over his nose, and glanced about him through hurt and squinting eyes. Safe, his heart thudded, safe. He went back to tell James, and brought him safely, safely through.

They laid Sirius out on the ground, and Remus sat beside him chafing his wrists- bone cold- while James untied them all and laid their jackets over their friend's body. James knelt on the other side of him, and gently slapped Sirius across the cheek.

`Wake up,' he crooned. `Come on, Sirius. Wake up.'

Remus blew on the limp hand he held, rubbing it between his own palms. `James,' he said. `James, do you realise- it's daylight.'

James looked up at the ceiling of trees. It was indeed day- not dawn, even, but the warm orange glow of a sunset. `That can't be possible,' James stuttered. The full reality of Remus's suspicions hit him hard. `We were only in there for- for an hour or two. Two at most! It should still be night!'

Remus had no answer for him. Sirius had begun to shiver, and his long eyelashes were fluttering. `We need to get him back.'

James nodded; he was turning a little blue himself. `At least we can be grateful that it didn't seem to snow tonight- today.' He and Remus drew Sirius into a sitting position. `Wake up, Sirius. Come on.'

Sirius opened his eyes for a moment, but they closed again immediately.

`We'll have to carry him. Put on your jacket.' Remus obeyed, slipping into it and feeling only marginally warmer. His hands shook numbly as he linked them with James's, and they worked their arms under Sirius's body. `On three,' James told him, and they lifted.

The trek through the Forest was made harder by their burden, and James was obliged to stop several times when Remus dizzily felt he couldn't go on. Sirius seemed to come to himself by the time they left the woods and passed the game-keeper's hut. By the time they reached the steps, they were able to stand him on his own feet, and as long as they walked by his side to steady him, he was able to set one foot in front of the other and keep his balance.

`Better to just come on up with us,' James told Remus as they reached the Fat Lady portrait that marked the entrance to the Gryffindor dorms. `Stay the night.'

Remus was too tired to protest. He nodded, and followed the older boys inside.

The common room was crowded- dinner was long over and the Gryffindors were gathered around the game table, watching two of the sixth years playing snooker. Only a few payed them any attention, and Remus was careful to stay hidden behind Sirius until they were safely up the stairs.

Sirius drew a deep breath when they closed the door to their dorm. He scrubbed a hand over his face, and looked around as if he had never seen this place before.

`Peter,' he said slowly, and pointed.

Remus turned. Sure enough, it was Peter, asleep at his desk; Remus had quite forgotten about him. It seemed that when they had been gone for longer than planned, Peter had done the smart thing and left the Forest before he froze to death.

`Lie down,' James was saying, pushing Sirius onto his bed. Sirius obeyed, leaning back and dragging a corner of the rumpled duvet over his arms and chest. His eyes closed as James untied the laces of his shoes and tossed them onto the floor. `Remus, the stoves- can you?'

Once again he obeyed, adding kindling for a first rush and adjusting the size of the flame from the petrol store. The heat was welcome, and he stood near it for a time, warming his icy hands and brushing off the hay that had stuck to him.

`What a day,' James said, coming to stand next to him. `Reemy- how?'

He looked up into his friend's face. Despite the exhaustion in his voice, James Potter's blue eyes were still lively, and he was no more mussed than after a lively game of Quidditch.

He himself felt more than half dead.

He fed a long straw he'd picked out of his scarf to the oven. `I couldn't tell you,' he replied.

++

When Remus returned to the dungeons, he went not to his own room, but to Lucius Malfoy's. He knocked, and was allowed entrance by Goyle. He gave a diffident nod, and went to Malfoy's bed.

Lucius sat up, and silently pointed. His roommates heaved disgruntled sighs, collected the lizards they were tormenting, and left them alone.

`How's your mother,' Lucius asked.

`I didn't go home.' Remus picked a nub on his jumper. `We went to the ring.'

Lucius had already bullied that much out of Peter; it had seemed suspicious that the little lap-dog would be without his masters. He said nothing.

Remus let loose a sigh. `It was a disaster,' he murmured. `We were lucky to get out... I'm not sure, but I have a feeling we could have died in there.'

`You could have.' Reluctantly, Lucius drew the book from beneath his pillow, and handed it to Remus. Matter-of-fact, he repeated what he had read. Remus went white half-way through his explanation, and was grey by the end of it. After a moment of hesitation, Lucius tossed him an afghan his mother had knit him. Remus wrapped himself in it, bringing his knees to his chest and laying the book on the bed as if it would bite him.

`I guessed something,' he whispered. `I knew something bad would happen, but never that- he could have died. I could have killed him.'

`Potter?'

`Sirius.'

`He'd have been well lost, then.' Lucius gestured to the book. `He should count himself lucky. I wouldn't have gone back for him.'

Remus raised his head, and grabbed Lucius by the arm. `We have to destroy it.'

`You're bonkers.' Lucius shook him off. `I don't want to destroy it.'

`Lucius, we don't have a choice! Think what would happen if someone wandered into it and no one knew?'

`Bad luck for them, then.' Lucius stood and went to his desk. `You got out fine. No harm done, is there?' His heart was beating hard. He had never wanted anything s bad as he wanted to keep the ring. He turned back to Remus. `I refuse. And you can't do it without me.'

He had never seen the expression that came over Remus's face, then. Remus always went along with whatever he'd said, after a token protest. Lucius knew this was different. Remus wouldn't mildly obey, this time.

`Give it a week,' he said desperately. `I just...`

`You just what?' Remus picked up the book and waved it at him. `You're the one who read it! You're going to stand there and just tell me that-`

`It's the only thing that wasn't just handed to me!' Lucius kicked viciously at his chair, knocking it over. Remus shut up with an expression of shock. `It's the only thing I've ever discovered for myself that wasn't taken away because it was dangerous or dirty or Muggle or it wasn't washed with gold and fit for a Malfoy!'

Remus opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Fiercely humiliated, Lucius kicked the chair again and turned his back.

Into the long silence that followed, Remus finally spoke. `What do you want to do, Lucius?' He came closer, picked up the chair. `I'll do whatever you want.'

Lucius said nothing.

`Don't be angry.' Remus brushed a hand over his arm, then stepped closer and pried loose the clenched fingers of Lucius's right hand. `Please.'

Lucius blinked tears from his eyes. +Weak,+ he ridiculed himself. +Weak.+ He allowed Remus to turn him, and press the book on him in a sort of apology. Remus smiled when he took it.

`Don't I intimidate you?' he asked.

Remus's smile widened into a grin. `No. Are you trying to?'

He didn't know what to say to that. `Sometimes.'

The awkward moment passed- or had it only been awkward for him? Remus said, `I'll do whatever you want about the ring, and I'll- I'll even go back with you if you'll still let me. But I think we ought to hide it. Just to be safe.'

The wave of relief he felt made him hate himself. `Okay.'

++

James pulled the covers higher up over his chin. Beside him, Sirius lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't seem to notice the cold.

`What was it like?' James whispered. In the dim rosy glow of the stoves, Sirius's face seemed older and mysterious. Though they lay only inches apart on the bed, years lay between them.

Sirius drew in a breath abruptly. `It was as if the world had ceased to be,' he said. `I'd never been so... happy. I thought I was bursting. It was...' He closed his eyes. `I didn't want it to end ever.'

All the questions he had wanted to ask deserted him. James stared, several times opening his mouth, but saying nothing. He thought to tell Sirius about the things he and Remus had seen, about the Americans, about how an entire day had passed while they were in the faerie world. He didn't. They lay quietly, and James tentatively slipped his hand into Sirius's. Eventually, they slept.

Sunday morning found Sirius restored from his daze. He ate with all his familiar gusto, and even joked with Peter, who was vastly relieved by it. James watched all with no little relief, himself, and though Remus continued to be troubled, told himself that all was over and none the worse for wear. If in quiet moments Sirius would gaze out the windows and sit with an expression of peculiar longing, James pretended not to notice.

`We should probably cover up the ring,' he said to Remus, who came over to the Gryffindor table at dinner to enquire after their health. In a soft aside, he added, `I don't think anyone's noticed anything. It's for the best; caused enough trouble already.'

Remus nodded, distracted. He had laid a hand on Sirius's shoulder, standing behind him, but Sirius barely acknowledged him, absorbed in his stew. With a sigh, Remus left them for his own House.

Sirius complained of a mild headache the next day, and was abed with migraine by the morning after. By the end of the week he was in the infirmary; no light stronger than a candle was allowed within the perimeter of his bed, and no noise louder than a whisper. No amount of cool cloths, Pepper Up, herbal remedies or strong spellwork answered for his pain. James, Remus, and Peter visited after the exams, bringing the news that Sirius would be allowed to take his at his leisure, that the game between Ravenclaw and Slytherin had ended predictably in Ravenclaw's favour, that the Headmaster had told a very bad joke in the middle of the fourth- year's Potions class and had sent Professor Turbute into the dithers.

By Saturday night, he was blind.

Remus Lupin watched from the doorway of the infirmary as Madam Pomfrey asked Sirius the same questions over and over, flipping through her medical journals more hopelessly every minute as all her careful spells failed. He clutched the book about the tylwyth teg to his chest. He left without announcing his presence, and he went to the library. James found him there, and sat in the chair beside him.

Remus shoved the many books open before him off the table with unaccustomed violence.

`What do you know about what's wrong with him?' James asked quietly.

Remus looked at him without seeing him; his eyes were turned in with self-loathing. He said, `Jamie; we have to go back.'

James let out a breath. `I suspected it.' He looked at the books, scattered on the floor. `Is there any hope?'

`There has to be,' Remus said hollowly.


	6. 1975 : Fall 2

Remus closed his book and scratched a note on the many sheets of parchment that cluttered his bed. His fingers were smudged with ink, and his nose also, where he had rubbed it earlier with his stained digits. He was tired, hungry, and his shoulders cramped and protested as he stretched them.

James glanced up from where he sat on the floor, trying to tempt a rat he'd discovered in the hallway to eat from his hand. `Anything?'

Remus had reached the limit in the library for student use and had been forced to fetch James to check out new books for him. Between them they had nearly twenty books, and the evenings of hunched cross- referencing and eye-burning study had begun to take a toll on him. But it had been worth it.

Sirius lay in the Infirmary, with no signs of recovering. Madam Pomfrey had sent for a specialist from London, who had given him a pair of dark glasses, through which Sirius was able to see dimly and brownly. The specialist did not believe they would work for long. Now it didn't look like he would have much longer to suffer.

Remus sat on the floor beside James, startling the rat; he watched it flee to the darkness under his bed. He held out a book, spine cracked and yellowed pages crumbling, open to James. `Madame Houck says that there is a king of the underworld. The place we went to. She says that humans see it as an endless moor. That's close, anyway. She said when she went she was presented to the king of the tylwyth teg and told that she would be allowed to keep her mind if she could think of an exchange.'

James took the book, but didn't read it. He searched Remus's face for an answer. `What did she exchange?'

Remus fiddled with a fold of his robe. He had discovered another new hole and was poking the tip of his finger through it to widen it. `The eye of the giantess Yramyr.'

James said, `We don't have anything that valuable.'

He stood, brushing dust off of his school robe. `I think we ought to tell a teacher. They'll be able to think of something we won't.'

`We'll get in a lot of trouble.' James ticked the points off on his fingers. `We went into the Forbidden Forest, and as the staff are so fond of saying, that's on pain of death. We put each other in mortal danger, didn't report a suspicious and magical doorway, and now we may have killed Sirius!'

`You mean, I did.' Remus glanced away, staring at anything but his friend. `I was the one who insisted it was all real. I didn't hold onto him. I didn't know anything about the field and I treated it like a plaything.' He twisted his hands in the thick wool of his robe. `I was reckless,' he whispered. `At best. It seems everyone pays for my recklessness but me.'

`That's not true.' James faced him. `We were all reckless. Ought to have known better. Besides.' He straightened his shoulders. `We'll find a way to fix it.'

Remus was saved a reply by a knocking at the door. He answered it, and stepped aside to allow Peter in. He accepted a plate of bread and jam, and sat on the floor with it to pick at his meal. Peter gave James a napkin full of good pork sausages, and settled on the bed.

James ate eagerly, but clearly his mind was elsewhere. `Reemy,' he asked finally. `Where can we find something like the eye of a giantess?'

`Not in Hogsmeade, I wager,' Peter muttered.

Remus lowered the corner of bread he'd been about to chew. `I was thinking about that since I read Madame Houck's account. I think... ` He trailed off. `But we're already in enough trouble.'

`Tell that to Sirius,' James replied pointedly.

Remus flushed. `I just meant-` He hunched his shoulders. `I was thinking, we find all sorts of stuff in the old storerooms. It'd be stealing, but there are all kinds of ancient artefacts and I bet no one even knows anymore what all is here.'

Peter looked up from where he was drawing the rat to him with an offering of a chocolate biscuit. Though he had come in late on their conversation, he nonetheless tried to help. `I found a weird hand mirror a month ago.'

James turned his attention to the other Gryffindor. `A mirror? Where?'

`Fourth floor.' Peter had coaxed the rat into his palm, and now it was sitting in his lap, its nose in the air and its whiskers trembling as it sniffed the air. `I was hiding from Dumfries,' he continued, a little ashamed.

Remus set his plate aside. `What does it do? How is it weird?'

Peter gently stroked the rat's back. `It laughed at me. It said I had a funny face.'

James lost his look of hope. `A joke mirror.'

`No, it talked to me,' Peter assured him. `I told I did not have a funny face, and said, "Yes you do, you silly git. I bet you're English."' He shooed the rat away. `I think it's a Scottish mirror,' he added.

Remus sighed and tugged on one of his cowlicks. `Well, it's worth a look. Maybe it will amuse the tylwyth teg.'

James nodded reluctant agreement. `Maybe we should take a bunch of things. Improve our chances.'

`Good idea.' Peter cast a longing glance at Remus's plate, and was given it immediately. `I bet Sirius knows where some good things are. You know he collects.'

`That's true!' James turned to Remus. `Remember the glass cat he found, that walked and purred?'

Remus did indeed, for he had been very taken with it. `Let's hope we're onto something,' he replied, trying to sound stout and confident.

`We'll tell Sirius, then.' James stood. `You two coming with?'

Remus gazed at his books. `You go. I still want to read more of Madame Houck. She seems like our best bet.'

If James thought that Remus had other reasons for avoiding Sirius, he said nothing. He only nodded, and he and Peter left to fill Sirius in on their new plan.

++

By Friday evening, they were ready. James and Peter snuck through the halls to Remus's room-- the only place they could be guaranteed privacy-- with a backpack full of the strangest artefacts they could find in the lesser traversed parts of the school. Remus was dressing as they entered, and turned a little away from them as he wrapped his scarf about his neck.

James had decided to wear the lightest of his Quidditch sweaters, and Peter was shivering in a short-sleeved grey shirt normally reserved for the summer months. Remus looked odd in his summer uniform-- the only summer clothes he owned-- and the winter scarf, but James had never seen him without it and had learnt not to mention it. Remus had very skinny legs with great knobby knees.

`Petey? Sirius all ready?'

Peter looked up. `Oh, yes. He says he's feeling up to it too.'

`He has to.' James sighed. `And Madam Pomfrey?'

`Lucius will distract her at eight o'clock.' Remus unzipped the bag to look inside. `I don't know what he's going to do, but it's probably worth a detention.'

`We'll make it up to him somehow.' If James regretted involving Malfoy, he didn't show it. `Did you take care of Snape?'

Severus had been against going back to the field. Remus had cajoled, and privately James had threatened, and the plain-faced Slytherin had finally, grudgingly, agreed to keep his peace.

Remus studied his hands. `Yes, James.' No one was in doubt that Severus and Remus had fought over this. James felt sorry for it, but it took second place to the urgency of Sirius's condition. He kept his nose out of it, knowing that Remus agreed with him wholeheartedly. If- when- they succeeded, there would be time enough to mend fences.

James motioned Remus to him, and all three boys climbed onto the bed. James brought out of his pocket the earplugs he had gotten from another student, calling in a favour. `We'll give Sirius his once we get out of here. Bert said they'd work against banshees, or at least that's what his uncle told him. So there's a good chance it'll work on the music. We have to set them to respond to our voices now.'

Remus fetched his battered old wand from his desk, and Peter took his from his shirt. James removed his from his back pocket, and they laid them carefully out on the blanket, tips touching.

`I'll go first.' James threw his shoulders back, and gripped the earplugs tightly in one fist. `James Potter,' he said, clearly and loudly. `Recognosco.'

`Credo,' replied Remus, and Peter echoed him.

Nothing happened, and James felt a curious disappointment, despite more than three years of study with finicky magics. He nodded to Peter.

`Peter Pettigrew.' Peter's squinted eyes flicked nervously to the other two. `Re- recognosco.'

Remus drew in a sharp breath. `Credo.'

`Credo,' said James.

`Remus Lupin.' Remus was clipped and sure. `Recognosco.'

`Credo.'

Remus nodded shortly. `That's done, then. It's seven thirty.'

Dressed for the warmth of the field, rather than the cold of winter, the boys shivered in the hallways as they snuck to one of the secret passages recently added to the map. No one noticed three shadows, one tall, one small, and one round, disappear behind a faded old tapestry.

Several spider's webs and three slippery staircases later, the boys found themselves at a dead end. James pushed to the front, feeling along the stone.

`Check the map,' Peter whispered.

`No light,' James retorted. `Should have brought a candle...'

`Lux,' whispered Remus, and held up his wand, which now glowed softly. When the other two looked at him, he said only, in a cross tone, `Oh, we're in a school for +magic,+ for goodness' sake.'

James grinned suddenly. `Right. And anyway, now I see there's a turn here to the right, I was just feeling in the wrong place.'

After that, it was much easier to hurry through the passageway. Remus put out the light in his wand when Peter glimpsed a light ahead of them, streaming in from two holes. Once again James took point, and stood up on the tips of his toes to place his eyes against the gaps.

`I see Malfoy,' he reported. `He's got those chubby goons with him.'

As he watched, Lucius Malfoy glanced about him nervously, clearly worrying over discovery outside the Infirmary door. He held something in his pocket, and kept touching it and then checking his watch. His two oversized friends had split an apple between them, and lounged about, patently bored.

`Close enough,' James muttered to himself. `Just do it. We're here now.'

But Malfoy did not, and the minutes dragged on.

`I have to go the loo,' Peter whispered.

`Should have done before, then,' James countered, without turning. `Wait til we get to the Forest.'

`I can't go in the Forest!'

`Just hold it, Peter,' Remus said. `It's got to be nearly eight, now.'

Malfoy agreed, apparently, because he took his hand out of his pocket, and gave each of his roommates something. James, his view blocked by the blonde boy's back, could not see what. Malfoy gave quietly hissed instructions, and took off down the hall without waiting to see what happened next.

`Figures,' James muttered, disgusted. `Leave the hard part to someone else.'

Moments later, shrieks issued from the Infirmary, as did billows of deeply orange smoke. James tensed; Malfoy's ploy was rewarded with Madam Pomfrey herself, just as promised. She stormed out of the Infirmary in a fine rage, and grabbed each boy by an ear. Within a minute they were marching off to the Headmaster's office.

`Let's go,' he told the others, and undid the latch that rested under his hand. The portrait swung away from the wall soundlessly, and the three boys dodged into the open doorway, unseen by the house elves who were gathered in a group wailing their silly heads off in the middle of a cloud of orange.

James made it Sirius's bed first, and found him already sitting up and putting his glasses on. `You ready?' he demanded.

Sirius gave them a shadow of his old grin. `Had my fingers crossed all day.'

Silently Remus handed him a cloak to wear over his hospital pajamas. Sirius, his young face grim and lined with the unrelenting pain of his headaches, wrapped it around him, and they slunk past the house elves and out the hall. They released a collective sigh of relief when they put the school behind them, and ran for the Forest.

Remus slipped past Peter and fell into step beside Sirius. `How are you?' he asked, hating the lameness of the question but unable, for the life of him, to think of anything better.

Sirius glanced down at him, half his face invisible between the darkness and the large black lenses of his glasses. `I just hope you have a plan.'

They had to stop after a minute to let Peter run behind a tree and take care of a bursting bladder, and Remus hovered by Sirius, half- afraid to let the older boy out of his sight. He even whispered, `It's all my fault,' hoping that, like James, Sirius would instantly forgive him; but Sirius didn't hear, and when they started walking again, Remus dragged behind and kept his eyes on his feet.

At the ring, they quickly ran through the charming of Sirius's earplugs, and each inserted theirs. James had rigged strong leather strips into a sort of rope with andles, and this they threaded hrough their belts, so that they looked, to Remus's country-bred yes, a great deal like a string of ponies being led to the fairs. Hands numb with the cold, Remus nonetheless jostled Peter for the link to Sirius, and tried his best to appear as imperturbable and strong as the brown-maned Gryffindor.

Sirius looks like a prince, Remus thought, gazing up at him. The cloak looked like the handsome robes that Headmaster Dumbledore wore, dusted softly with snowflakes and sable black in the light of the waning moon.

`That's it, then.' James let out a sharp sigh. `Anyone else scared of this, suddenly?'

Peter laughed nervously.

They entered the ring, gripping the leather rope tightly.

++

Severus lifted the pot away from the stove, his hand carefully wrapped in his robe. He poured the steaming water into his mug, and when his roommate gestured, to the one beside it also. `Here,' he said, and handed the mug to Tollery.

`And you're telling me they're out there right now?' Tollery, a fifth year, and his best friend, Jeremy Roth, had never feuded with James Potter and Sirius Black- but they had no reason to love him, either. Gryffindor had won the House Cup last year, and that put Slytherin in last place for the second year in a row.

He took the chair beside Tollery's bed, and swirled the tea leaves in the bottom of his mug. It's not really a betrayal, he convinced himself. Remus won't get in any trouble. It's just House politics.

`He told me they were going at eight o'clock.' It was already half past. `Who are you going to tell?'

Tollery sighed, and bent to place his tea on the floor. `Best go to Asper. He'll be sure that Lupin is kept out of it, and he could probably get a good fifty points out of those Gryffs.' He studied Severus through narrowed eyes. `You come with me.'

He looked up. `No, I-`

`He has to know,' Tollery murmured. `That's how it works, Snape. You're a Slytherin. Lupin forgot that. We have to teach him.' He stood, pulling on his vest and pinning his Prefect badge to it. `You will be the one to tell Asper.'

It's for his own good, he convinced himself. He's a Slytherin. He's my friend. Not theirs.

`All right,' he said, and followed Tollery out.

++

Sirius knelt, running his fingers through the thick cool grass of the field. It was day, here, and the light burned through his eyes and pounded relentlessly against the back of his skull. He wished the others had thought of water, but he couldn't blame them for the oversight. No-one, not even James Potter, could think of everything.

Remus crouched beside him, breaking away from the soft conversation James was leading as far away as their rope would allow. `All right, Sirius?'

The other boy was nothing but a brownish blur to him. The scarf... His scarf, cranberry red and sometimes he regretted giving it to Remus, the scarf he recognised even through the pain and the dimness of his diseased vision. He reached out to touch it. `Aren't you hot?'

Remus seemed embarrassed. `Yes,' he confessed.

`Take it off.'

There was a long silence. `No.'

Another time, he might have argued. The heat was helping. He'd been cold all bloody week, dreaming of the bonfire and trying desperately to hold onto the fading memories of the dance.

He was aware of Remus worrying about him, watching him as if he couldn't look away. It made him feel cross. He could take care of himself. He and James could have fixed this on their own.

He took off the glasses to rub his eyes, and put them back when James said, at a normal volume, `Right, let's move out then.'

`To where?' Remus asked, standing.

`Same place as last time.'

Sirius stood. Try though he had, he could not remember where they had taken him. There had been the solid presence of James and Peter and the creaking old leather of Remus's belt, and then there had been the fire, and the wine, and...

`Doesn't it seem awfully still?' Peter rubbed his stomach absently. `No wind. No real noise.'

The boys fell silent, each listening. There was not even the comfort of anything so normal as birdsong, for there was no brush or tree in sight that would offer shelter to them.

James put his hand on Remus's shoulder. `Maybe our- our need isn't great enough. We're warned against them now, so we're not easy prey. They won't come to us. And...' He squinted, pushing his glasses further up the ridge of his nose with his forefinger. `And when you and I were coming back to rescue Sirius, we were pretty worried, weren't we? Urgent.'

Remus caught on, and so did Sirius. He said, `So what? Do we fake them out? Should one of us pretend to sprain an ankle or something?'

Remus was shaking his head. `I think they'd know,' he refused. `Either they wouldn't bother with us at all, or something bad could happen we can't predict.'

`Bad like going blind,' Sirius snapped. `Bad like being unable to move for fear you'll split your head open? Damn it, I'll risk it.'

Remus turned pink. `I'm sorry,' he whispered. `I didn't mean it like that.'

Peter gazed between them uneasily.

James kicked at the grass. `Great,' he muttered. `So we're helpless.' He glared up at the perfectly azure sky. `No matter what we do, we're still at a disadvantage. They know what they'll do, and all we can do is guess from three steps behind.'

Peter seemed to take that to mean they weren't going anywhere soon, and sat, forgetting he was connected to Remus by the leather straps. Remus stumbled and sat rather more abruptly, starting a chain reaction that brought the other two down. Peter turned a fascinating shade of red and covered his face with his hands. There was a moment of surprised silence, and then James laughed.

`All right,' he said, wiping sweat from his brow. `No sense in wearing ourselves out looking for something we can't find. We might as well rest here for a while.'

++

They'd been waiting beside the ring for a good ten minutes, watching Professor Asper stare at it and mutter spells they couldn't quite hear. Sometimes the wand of thick ebony would spit sparks or bright lights that settled over the mushrooms. Tollery looked bored to tears, and Severus saw him fingering the cigarettes in his pocket longingly, but he didn't dare smoke before a teacher.

`I see,' Asper said finally in a normal tone. What he saw, he didn't share with his students; he tucked his wand into a carrying sheath in his belt, and drew up the hood of his green woolen robe. `Very well. Dismissed.'

Tollery straightened, stiff with surprise. `But Professor,' he started.

Asper barely spared him a glance. `You did your duty. If I'm not mistaken, I ordered a written report on last Thursday's lab practical, Tollery. May I assume yours is perfect?'

Tollery flushed, and his second chin trembled with anger. `Sir,' he said, and shoved off through the trees, making quite a lot of unnecessary noise. Severus hesitated a moment longer, but Asper was not even looking at him.

`Sir,' he echoed. `Will... will they be in much trouble?'

`A little late to worry about such details.' Asper knelt, brushing his fingers near the edge of the ring. `Why are you still here?'

He wasn't sure. Maybe it was the thought of how angry Remus would be with him. Or the thought of all the things that could be going wrong in the faerie world. And he'd sort of thought that Asper would want to go to the faerie world himself, to get them back or something. There was absolutely no sign that Asper intended any such adventure.

He left without saying anything else.

++

Night had come slowly, relieving the heat only slightly. They had wandered again after all, searching for a stream or a lake, in need of water. All four were hungry and irritable, and just before dusk, Sirius had peevishly freed himself from their rope link, ignoring all the protests Remus raised. James seemed to accept it, however, and after dark freed himself as well.

Remus clung to Peter- rather childishly, Sirius felt- stopping the chubby boy from untying the length of leather that bound them. `This isn't safe,' he repeated.

`Bother that,' Sirius snapped. He lifted his arms skyward. `This is so useless! They're not coming, don't you see? We're wasting time.'

`Fine! Fine.' Remus struggled to untie the knot at his belt, and let Peter untie it for him, dropping the rope to the ground. `At least I'm trying. At least I remember what happened to you, since it's clearly slipped your mind completely! Go back, give it a try, whatever.' His face an ugly red, Remus turned his back on them and marched away. He stopped a few metres away, then went a little farther, out of earshot.

`What a baby,' Sirius said scornfully. He raised his voice so Remus would hear. `Bloody twat! Really mature!'

James tugged at his shirt, pulling the damp away from contact with his skin. `Let him be.'

`This is so useless!' He waved a hand at the sky. `They're +not+ interested in us, don't you see that?'

`I see it,' replied James, calmingly.

`Face it,' he continued, pretending he hadn't heard. `We just don't know enough. We don't even know what to do if by some miracle, those faeries +do+ approach us!'

`I know,' James said, gazing off after Remus. He was squinting, fighting the deepening darkness.

Sirius didn't know how to let it go, though he was tired enough to admit- privately- that he wanted to. It felt as if he'd been angry for longer than he could remember, and it was beginning to lose its edge. He knew very well Remus couldn't help worrying, anymore than he could help it. The uneasy sense that he would never be able to leave this place whole... it made his chest ache, if he let himself dwell on it. He ground his teeth together and turned away from where Remus had been swallowed up by the fuzzy dark eclipsing his vision, and faced Peter.

Peter rubbed his stomach. `On the happy side,' he said, trying to smile, `looks like I'll finally lose some weight.'

James grinned, and threw his arm around Peter's shoulders. `Right attitude.'

Remus joined them again after an hour or so; he refused to meet anyone's eyes and he settled on the fringes of the circle the other three had formed. He sat with his back painfully straight, gazing off into the night.

Sirius was fighting sleepiness. He'd not rested well since the headaches had started, and the oppressive heat had been working on him as well as his knowledge that back at Hogwarts, it was early morning. He pressed against his temples, pushing hard against the daggers of pain that had yet to completely abate, and stood.

`We need to do something,' he said loudly. Startled pale faces turned up to him. `I don't care what, but I can't stand just sitting here and rotting.'

`We could split up,' Peter offered. He glanced around for approval.

`Too dangerous.' Remus finally spoke. `You'd be caught up immediately if they wanted you to be. You can't resist the music.'

James pursed his lips and scrubbed a hand through his hair. `We could do it in pairs, then. It's not entirely without merit.'

`Didn't you hear what I said?' Remus squirmed to face them without standing. `You wouldn't stand a chance.'

`Oh, and you would?' Sirius didn't like the tone Remus had taken. `What makes you so smart, that you think you can act like we're all too blind to see the sun?'

`Yell at me all you like, but I'm right!' Remus did stand now, his fists clenched at his side. `I'm not making it up! James, you felt it, right?' He pointed wildly to the distance. `When we came back for Sirius. You would have gone if you could, yes? And why did we have to come back for you in the first place?' He whirled on Sirius. `You just aren't capable of drowning it out!'

James laid a hand on Sirius's shoulder to prevent him retorting. `Reemy,' he said softly. `Calm down. You are right, but remember, we have an advantage this time. The earplugs.'

Remus gasped. `You're right!' He ripped his out immediately, staring at them in his palm. `You're right, I should have thought of it immediately! No- leave yours in!'

About to remove his own, James shrugged and obeyed. `What've you thought of?'

Remus groaned and threw his plugs violently away from him. `We outsmarted ourselves. I'm so +stupid+! Oh, James, can't you see- they don't come because they can't get us, as long as we can't +hear them+!'

James stared, openmouthed. Sirius felt a wave of consternation roll over him; he had assumed... He took his earplugs out immediately, and listened as hard as he could.

`It's faint,' he cried triumphantly. `It's faint, but I hear them!'

Predictably, Remus was there to throw caution at him like a wet blanket. `Please be careful,' he warned them. `If you take them out, you have to be sure to put them back once we find the dance, or I mean it, you really will be lost-`

`We'll deal with that when it comes.' Sirius put his in James's pocket, and grabbed up the rope. `See? I'm being careful. I promise to hold on. Now can we get walking?'

Peter held his earplugs in a quaking fist. `Sirius? Remus? What +do+ we do when we find them- or they find us- or-`

Remus shook his head, but James answered. `We talk to them. We have to make them take us to someone who can fix what they did to you, Sirius.'

The other boys had reported to him whatever promising information they had read in the course of their frantic search, but there were no certainties. Sirius refused to think of that now, however; not when they were so close to being able to +do+ something.

`I've got a list of names to try.' James tapped his temple. `One of them has to work.'

They walked.

++

Asper tapped the mouthpiece of his pipe- a twin to the one Dumbledore smoked beside him- against his teeth. `We might have to assume the worst,' he ventured.

Turbute heaved a heavy sigh. `He's right, Albus. It's been two days.'

Dumbledore gazed down at the mushrooms with an unreadable expression. His thoughts were clearly far away; watching, Asper wondered which book he was searching in memory, which bit of wisdom he was consulting. Absently he tugged at the cowl of his robe, irritated by the drips of melting ice from the trees above their heads.

`The children have great resources,' the Headmaster finally replied. `We have all learned not to underestimate the minds of James Potter and Sirius Black.'

`And Lupin?' Turbute shifted uncomfortably. `I don't need to remind you what could happen if he's with those boys when he...' He lifted one shoulder in a gruff gesture.

`The moon is on the wane,' Dumbledore reminded him.

`Yes, but it's already been two days.' Asper pointed to the ring with his wand. `You heard the same testimony from that Snape boy that we did. Time runs differently between the two planes. What may seem like a short caper to them could be weeks here. I don't mean to resurrect ghosts, Albus, but you recall Danny Shing.' He held his tongue, knowing the name would be enough. Danny Shing had been a strapping seventeen when he disappeared, dared by his friends into the Forbidden Forest. Dippet had refused to see the truth, but the eachers had privately searched the orest, Albus among them. The had found only the residue of magic rought by a non-human- angled, messy, chaos magic, magic of the earth but not. Asper had nly recently joined the staff some years later when a boy who claimed to be Danny Shing had come stumbling into the Great Hall at supper, and died by morning as Dippet questioned him. He well remembered his own shock, and judging by the look on the faces of his companions, it had been shared.

`Danny was nearly unaged.' Turbute glanced out into the woods, rubbing his chin. `Seven years. The danger is real, Albus, you must agree with us. We need to send someone in.'

`I will not risk another life to save others who may not be in distress.' The quiet, firm voice did not waver.

`And so we wait.' Asper had guessed Dumbledore would order no action. He did not agree, but did not disagree with the reasons why.

The tall man to whom he had sworn allegiance sighed softly. `For the moment,' he qualified. `I think we may yet by surprised.'

`I'll send to the Ministry,' Turbute offered. `We could use an expert in the Dark Arts here.'

Asper cast him a glance of surprise. `You think-?'

`No,' he admitted. `But I can think of nothing else.'

He nodded. `With permission, Albus,' he murmured, `I'll remain in the hopes they emerge before we are forced to drastic measures.'

Dumbledore inclined his head, and set off with Turbute at his side.

Asper crouched beside the ring, and settled himself in for a long vigil.

++

Unconsciously Remus stepped back into the protection of Sirius's height. Unthinking, Sirius put an arm around him and pulled him back tight against his chest.

`Hello,' James began, and stopped to clear his throat. `Um...'

The dance had stopped as soon as it reached them. In the frantic scramble to get their earplugs, the boys hadn't noticed the faeries surrounding them. The creatures were not tall- of a height with Remus, the shortest of them- but they were unexpectedly menacing. Foreign looking faces gazed imperturbably at them, and the faeries were eerily still, in the absence of the dance.

Peter was shaking. `What do we do?' he whispered.

One of the creatures separated from the crowd. It- he- was just slightly taller, and his dress was richer: emeralds sparked on his long-tailed coat, and winked at his ears. Unsettling green eyes, the colour of agate and just as stony, speared them each one by one.

His mouth moved, but with the protection of the earplugs, they could not hear him. Sirius wasn't sure if he was grateful or disappointed... But then Remus straightened suddenly in his hold, and he remembered that Remus had thrown away his charmed earpieces. Remus's voice came to him clearly through the enchantment. He replied, at a bare whisper. `Ac i chwithau.'

Shit, Sirius thought. James closed in on them with Peter at his side, and James grabbed frantically at Remus's arm.

The faerie raised a hand, and beckoned. Again his mouth moved.

Sirius didn't understand the words, but he knew nonetheless what the creature wanted. He brought up his other arm, the one holding the rope as he'd promised, and wrapped it around Remus.

The faerie's expression suddenly came to life; he frowned deeply, and his eyes were angry. When he spoke again, it was clearly with more volume, and his gesture was emphatic.

Sirius could feel how Remus's heart thundered in his chest. `No,' he said. `Don't go.'

`I think I have to.' The smaller boy wriggled away from him and James, and took a hesitant step. Sirius saw his white hands writhe and grip each other behind his back.

After that the words flowed thick and fast, and try though he did Sirius couldn't follow even by the tone of his friend's voice. He edged toward James. `Can you tell?'

James shook his head, trying to keep an eye on the crowd and the conversation at once. `What are the odds that the faeries and Remus speak the same language?'

`It's Welsh.' Remus turned back to them, twisting his hands before him. `He-` His voice cracked. `He says his name is Eflyllon, and he's in charge. I think he's a lord of some kind.' His eyes shifted nervously, as if he were trying very hard not to look back at the faerie. `He says, You should not have come here, and you should not have brought the others and left them for us. He says he...' He trailed off, and James gently urged him on. `He says he can make it so I may leave here. I said, you're my friends, I won't leave you. And he said-` Remus shifted, agitated far beyond his normal self- control. `You should not have come here, and you should not have brought the others and left them for us.'


	7. 1975 : Spring

James woke to a feeling of being enveloped by warmth and sweet- smelling softness. He rubbed crust from his eyes and rubbed a hand over the heavy covers- furs. He pushed them back and sat up, and fumbled about til he found his glasses.

The room swam into focus.

It was just a room. Part of him was disappointed. The walls were stone, carved rather than bricked like at Hogwarts, and the ceiling was low. There was no decoration other than the technique on the curiously curved walls, and all that occupied the small space was the pallet he lay on and the furs and himself.

He stood, then crouched quickly again and wrapped the top layer of fur around his middle. He was quite naked. The thought of one of the faeries undressing him was more than a little unnerving. He called, "Hello? Is someone supposed to come get me when I wake up? Why was I asleep?" He paused. No answer. "Hello?" How did you say hello in Welsh? Remus would know.

Which raised the question of why he was alone.

It was logical to assume that the others had found themselves in similar situations. The last thing James could remember was Remus facing them and translating for that faerie with the funny long name. As they were clearly not back in the Forbidden Forest, the tylwyth teg must have decided to take them.

James worked his way around his small room, feeling along the stone and coming to conclusions that didn't suit him much. First, that the surface was aged and polished almost to the point where some of the carvings had been worn down. Perhaps, James mused, by hands just like mine, looking for a way out.

Conclusion two. There was no way out.

Eventually, when he had been around the room several times, he sat back on the pallet and drew fur up over his chilled feet. Why had they left him his glasses but not his clothes? How long had he been here- and how much longer would he be?

He slept again, bored and unable to keep pushing himself to figure out an answer to any of the patently unanswerable questions the strange little room raised. It was his stomach that roused him. As he swam up to consciousness, the smell of roasted corn hit his nose and slowly infiltrated his awareness. Baked bread. Butter. Oh, butter.

He sat up, and pushed his glasses up where they had slipped down his nose. The first thing he saw was the platter laid beside his head, and he was reaching for it before he even noticed the person looking down at him.

`Remus!'

His younger friend smiled nervously, and nodded sharply to his left. James looked, and held his tongue this time. It was the faerie with the funny name.

`I'm not sure if he understands us or not,' Remus said, trying to keep his voice low. His eyes were restless, but he had put on calm like a cloak and he kept his shoulders straight with the show of it. `I asked him- begged, I guess- if I could come with him when he brought you food.'

James had crammed his mouth with bread smeared with thick real butter and a strange green preserve. He managed a swallow, and reached for the jug. Milk, he saw, and gulped from it before he realised it wasn't cow's milk, as he was used to, but goat's milk. Remus sat on a corner of the furs, and tucked his feet under him. James discreetly spat back into the jug, and put it down.

`Have you seen the others? And where'd you get that outfit?'

Remus tugged on the lapels of the earth-coloured jacket he wore. He was dressed like the faeries, in short breeches and stockings of dark green and even a cap. The high collar of his shirt was buttoned up tightly to his chin. `They took our clothes. Eflyllon says because they're ugly. I asked for something.' He glanced to the silent faerie who watched them. `Do you want me to ask for you?'

`I'll have to look like that?' James sighed, and cradled a cob between his hands. `Please. I don't much like hanging about all sheets to the wind.'

Remus grinned. `I'll ask.' He rubbed his hands over his thighs. `Are you all right?'

The corn was delicious. `M'fine,' he muttered around a mouthful. He chewed thoughtfully. `I'm confused,' he admitted. `I don't remember much, for one thing. And I'd dearly like to know why we're separated. And how long it's been.'

`Two days,' the other boy answered immediately. He rubbed his hands against each other, as though they itched or ached. `They told me you were sleeping for most of it. Same with Peter. He woke up earlier.' He smiled. `He ate two trays.'

James was beginning to be thirsty enough to consider daring the goat's milk again. `And Sirius? He's sleeping?'

Remus glanced back at their guard. `No- not like us.'

He let the jug rest against his lap. `What's that mean?'

But Remus was reluctant to speak before the tylwyth teg. `He's all right. I believe them when they say that.'

James took the hint. `Well... where are we, exactly?'

Remus seemed relieved at the change in subject. `I've asked, but they don't seem to understand the question. All he can really say' he nodded toward the one who stood against the wall opposite them `is Annwn.'

James recognised the word. `The underworld... not very descriptive.'

`Madam Houck said she was taken to a palace,' Remus said. `This place has hallways but it's not a palace like any I've ever seen. I think we're underground.'

`What are they going to do with us?'

Remus looked away. He clambered to his feet, and muttered, `I'll get them to bring you something to wear. I think we'll be allowed to see each other whenever we want.'

His eyes itched, and he rubbed them automatically. When he lowered his hand, Remus and the faerie were gone. So was the uneaten food, though the milk was still cradled by his knees. James made a face, and put it aside.

`I've more questions now than I did before he came,' he said to himself. Nothing for it. He pulled the furs up to his chest and laid back, half-full and forced to be content with a growing sense of unease.

++

Two more sleep cycles passed before anyone came for him.

James opened his eyes to see a faerie looking down on him. A female, with long blonde hair. She had the same small face and green dress as the one who had come with Remus, and she was holding a bundle in one tiny hand.

`You are awake?' She scowled. `Sit.'

He obeyed, sitting up and holding a fur up to his neck to cover his bare chest. `Who are you?'

She rocked back on her heels, considering him from hard agate- coloured eyes. `You can call me Llyke. Is it true that humans have no true name and have multiple births?'

He stared. `Well- I guess.' He hesitated. `I'm James Potter.'

She crouched, tucking her skirt under her knees in the back to keep it from billowing. `Pot-ter? You have very strange sounds in this language.'

`Er. Yeah, I suppose we do.' She was watching him with a predatory sort of gaze, and it made him squirm. `What are you here for?'

She sighed. `I am to take you to Arawn.' She held out the bundle she held. `Clothe yourself.'

He untied the string and unrolled clothes to match the kind Remus had been wearing, but in a light shade of brown. He looked up at Llyke, and felt his ears turn red. `Are you going to watch?'

She didn't answer. She also didn't look away, and her seat beside his pallet looked permanent.

James hadn't had to dress in front of a girl since he was a child and his mother had done it for him. It was an intensely embarrassing situation, and he did it with an unaccustomed clumsiness, unable to decide which way to turn to hide the maximum skin from the faerie. He barely noticed the strange feel of the fabric as he hastily tucked and buttoned. He did not notice that the buttons were fancifully carved from semi-precious stones, or that the slippers weren't proper leather but fine silk lined with down. He crammed the cap low over his eyes, and scrubbed his nose furiously.

Llyke stood, gracefully sweeping her skirt out around her calves and brushing it straight. `Follow. Stay close to me and touch nothing.'

The itch in his nose intensified, and he sneezed. When he opened his eyes, they weren't in his room any longer, but in a dark hallway. Llyke held a glass sphere, and it glowed with softly floating lights. James could see nothing beyond their small area of brightness, but when he lifted a hand above his head he found the ceiling was barely an inch above him. He hunched his shoulders and his mind conjured scenes in which the girl faerie led him to bang his head open on a crossbeam and that was the end of James Potter.

`I warned you not to touch,' she said, her eyes gleaming in the light of her globe. She bent bonelessly and came up with a corner of her skirt, which she held out to him. `Keep hold of that and no harm will come to you.'

He took it, blushing and glad that she probably couldn't see it. The little edge of her skirt was warm and soft, and he closed his fist tightly about it. Don't think of the ceiling, he told himself. For the first time he wished he were Remus's twelve-year-old height. Remus probably hadn't noticed the nearness of all that stone.

Very quickly he lost track of the turns and twists they took through the labyrinth of the underworld. He could not even tell if they were going higher or lower, because every time he felt sure he'd noticed a gradual incline it changed. There didn't seem to be any distinguishing marks on the walls, but Llyke moved briskly and surely, her feet falling silent and James's clumping along behind her. They passed no one.

And then suddenly they stopped smartly, before what was clearly a door. Llyke turned and took her skirt back, brushing cool fingers against James's fist.

`Go inside,' she said. Her voice was quiet in the silence of the hallway. `You will be comfortable within.' She stepped aside, and waved at the door.

Comfortable, James thought. That doesn't sound like she's throwing me to the lions. He shuffled forward and laid a hand on the surface- wood, though it was grey as the stone around it- and looked back. `Where-`

But she was gone.

James drew in a fortifying breath. Stranger and stranger, he said to himself, and pushed on the door. It swung open on noiseless hinges, revealing a room lit brightly and warmly and containing two people he was relieved to see.

Peter was on his feet, reaching out to grab his arm and pull him in, and Remus stood from where he leaned against a raised hearth completely and charmingly like the one in the Gryffindor common room. `Thank goodness it's you,' Peter was gushing. `If I thought it was one more of those weird people I'd scream. Look, you have these awful clothes too. Where were they keeping you? Are you okay?'

`Jolly,' James replied absently. The room was almost familiar in its build, startlingly familiar. Human, he thought, and for some reason that disturbed him very deeply. A bed was in the far corner, a great four-poster large enough for three Dumbledore-sized men, piled high with pillows and duvets in green and rose. To one side was a table laden with foodstuffs- and goat's milk, for James had had time to become more than accustomed to the noxiously strong stuff and its smell- and the carpet beneath his slippered feet was luxurious, but clearly old. Elegant settees upholstered in earthy deep greys dotted the rest of the room, and there were- toys. Heaps and heaps of toys.

`This is a child's room,' he said slowly.

Remus sank back against the brick of the fireplace. He reached out a hand, and brushed it over the cracking old wood of a hip-high rocking horse that was surely ancient in make. It rocked sadly under his touch, creaking.

`This is what happened to all the children we read about,' he murmured. `They came here. For a thousand years. All these things are old, James. I saw a bed like that in the Museum of London. It's at least five centuries old.'

Disquieted, James found that all the appeal of the room shrank away to nothing. He joined Remus at the fireplace, and wished the flames weren't quite so merry. It seemed sacrilegious. Now he could see that the fabrics were threadbare, worn by untold bodies, and many of the toys were broken or peeling at the paint. `This place is awful,' he whispered. He reached for a ball, and cradled it in his lap. The wood was shiny and worn, like the walls of his room. Polished by ages of touch.

Peter returned from the table with a plate of biscuits. `What should we do, James?'

He reached for the plate, then realised his appetite was gone. He sighed, stroking the ball with his thumb. `I suppose all we can do is wait.'

Remus drew his knees up to his chest, and gazed into the fire. Peter sighed, and sat at their feet on the floor and ate his biscuits alone.

++

The tylwyth teg came for them. The male with the funny name who had shown up with Remus that first time, and Llyke, who had taken James. Remus's faerie gestured, and the boys glanced at each other. James nodded, and they stood.

They were taken on a considerable walk through the maze that was the stone hallways and their endless junctioning and crisscrossing. James noticed that Remus seemed to be studying their path intensely- he muttered to himself, perhaps counting. James left him to it, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep track. There was simply too many turns and too few landmarks.

Their faeries turned and waited for the boys to catch up. `Wait for us here,' said Peter's. `We will return for you when he is ready to see you.'

`Who?' James whispered, bending so only Remus could hear him. `Who are we seeing?'

Remus shrugged, repeating his count to himself over and over.

The wait wasn't short, but just when James might have started to get impatient, Llyke returned. Her eyes seemed to linger on him, though it was hard to tell. `Come,' she ordered.

They came, James leading and Remus trailing closely and Peter all but tripping at Remus's heels. James was not the only one to note when the ceiling abruptly sloped higher, growing to twice his height, and then three times. The rise halted at a huge lintel and massive columns. James shivered as he passed beneath it.

Their guides indicated they were to stand still, and the boys huddled together. The two faeries melted into a crowd- a huge crowd.

They were in a throne room.

There was no other way to describe it. It was nothing like Buckingham Palace, that Remus had shown him pictures of, or even as grand as the Hall at Hogwarts. But it was a throne room. A ceiling of stone carved so elegantly and skilfully that it resembled the branches of trees stretched in arches high above their heads, and the granite beneath their feet was covered in a softly glowing lichen- the only light in the huge room. And there, an hundred yards ahead of them- a chair. Just a plain wooden chair.

The tylwyth teg, hundreds of them, far more than had been in the dance, all stood silent gazing at the chair and just... waiting.

And then, suddenly, every single one of them swept into a low bow, and held there, bodies bent nearly double and fingers brushing the floor.

James swung his attention back the chair, and saw there was a man in it.

A man- not a faerie. He was taller even than Dumbledore, taller than any man he had ever seen. His face was white as chalk, his lips a thin slash cutting through the pale. His eyes were mere shadows, and his hair was so black it shone almost blue in the soft glow of the moss.

His mouth never opened, but his voice was a whisper all about them.

Dewch yma.

James cleared his throat. `We don't understand,' he started.

Byddwch yn dawel.

The dark eyes moved over them, judging, weighing- though James could not have said how he knew. They settled on Remus.

Dewch chi yma, the man murmured.

Remus shrunk away. `I don't want to,' he said, and his voice echoed in the hall. `Dydw i ddim!'

James glanced at his friend, and pressed his lips together tightly. `Speak so we can understand you. You must be able to! Playing games doesn't serve anyone.'

He felt the force of the faerie's mind on his, then. It was a struggle to keep his shoulders straight. He knew instinctively that this was no challenge, but a dreadful sort of curiosity that must end favourably to James. He glared for all he was worth.

`Very well.' The man shifted in his chair, crossing one long leg over the other. He lifted a white hand and pointed. `I want you to come here.'

Peter's voice was almost inaudible. `Maybe you should.'

`Why?' James called back. `Why him?'

`No.' Remus's voice seemed to tremble, which was unlike him. Remus was often depressed but rarely frightened. `I'm coming. Fine.' James watched, worried, as Remus crossed the long empty space to the man in the chair. He looked very small.

`What do you want?' he called, wondering what moved him to try and stop this. Surely the man wouldn't hurt Remus. But before he received an answer, he left Peter and ran to catch up his friend, grabbing him by the elbow and standing beside him, trying to appear bold.

Up close, the man didn't look any less unearthly. There were exactly three lines in his face- two deeply carved ones to either side of his slash of a mouth, and one on his forehead from frowning. The hands that lay on the arms of the chair were perfectly formed and young looking, and the crescents of his nails gleamed dully. The strong, broad bridge of his nose could have been chiselled from marble.

`It is customary to kneel,' he said.

James knew better than to ignore that one. He eased down to one knee, and beside him Remus did the same, shaking off his hand.

The strange man leaned forward a fraction in his seat, and then one of his hands moved languorously through the still air. `I have been told of you. You must be very brave children,' he murmured.

James said nothing. To him, at least, it was obvious.

`Why did you return?' the man asked.

`You must know why.' Remus started to stand from his kneel, but changed his mind and stayed where he was. `We wanted to help our friend.'

`Why should I care what you want?'

`Sir?' James cleared his throat. `My lord? We... brought things.' He had no idea, he realised, where his backpack was. `Things to make an exchange.'

There was a long pause. Then: `Bring them here.'

It was a moment before he understood that hadn't been addressed to him, but to one of the faeries behind him. He chewed his lip, and glanced at Remus- pale, but holding his own. He turned and looked to Peter, who seemed very alone and uneasy, standing in the middle of that crowd of tylwyth teg and trying to look older than he was.

Llyke came to his side, and held the bag out to him as if it were poison. She waited until he took it, then took two steps back. She watched him unzip the back flap without expression, and he made himself look away from her and back toward the man as he upended the entire bag and carefully shook its contents out onto the stone.

The chair creaked as the man bent to look, and Remus fidgeted. James winced as the man reached for the joke mirror-- it seemed like a horrible idea now to have brought it- into the silence, the sudden honking laugh of a joke mirror blasted like thunder.

`Baubles,' said the man, over the racket of the mirror. `These are useless mortal toys.'

`There must be something you want,' James pleaded. `You didn't even look at-`

`Be quiet.' It seemed that the man sighed; or maybe it was only an exhale, for he didn't seem to breathe unless he wanted to. `My need is greater than yours.'

The black eyes that gazed at him drifted to the left. `Who has claimed them?'

`I have.'

`Eflyllon,' mused the man. `Well enough. See them settled. I will ponder this.'

`Arawn.' It was Llyke, and she came up behind James and laid her hand just above James's shoulder so that it crawled with the knowledge of her nearness. `I wish to dispute Eflyllon's claim.'

Remus's faerie detached from the crowd and crossed the stone as if his feet were not even touching the floor. He halted at Remus's side. `There is no dispute. They are mine,' he said, and James, watching nervously, thought the faerie seemed to be frowning.

`I only want this one.' Llyke let her hand fall on James finally, though the weight of her touch was nothing. `Eflyllon can keep the other two.'

`It is the strongest of the three,' Eflyllon argued, and now there was definitely a sullen note in his voice. `And this one is not fully human. It is useless.' He pointed to Remus.

James stared.

Remus turned white, and his hands clenched into fists in the loose fabric of his jacket.

The man- Arawn- gazed between the two faeries. He lifted a finger. `I will think on this dispute. You will have my decision with all possible speed. You agree to abide by it?'

Llyke answered immediately, and James heard smugness in her voice, as if she had won something. `I do, Arawn.'

The man's dark eyes turned to Eflyllon. `And you?'

Eflyllon was clearly locked in a struggle with himself. He sent a brief and hot glare at Llyke. `I do,' he said, with great restraint.

Arawn nodded. `See them settled, Eflyllon. If the one is taken from you, something will be found in compensation. I give my word.'

The faerie bowed.

Fingers dug into his shoulder, and James looked up at Llyke. She was not looking at him, but her hold was almost painful. He didn't like the idea of being called an `it'-- or of being claimed. It had a decidedly sinister sound.

`Sir?' Remus did scramble to his feet, though he was pale yet and could not seem to look at James. `Our friend. Sirius. Who has claimed him?'

Arawn gazed back imperturbably. `He will not be claimed. He belongs to the Earth.'

And that was all. Eflyllon took them from the throne room, and refused to answer any questions on the long walk back to the child's toy room. It seemed to James that he looked almost hatefully at Remus and Peter, and that his gaze hovered on James longer than he was comfortable with. But he left without a word.

Remus immediately fled to the other side of the room, to the big bed. He vanished beneath a flurry of duvets and pink pillows.

Peter came back from the table with the milk. James shook his head as it was offered to him, and he sank onto a cushion beside the hearth, letting the heat of the fire blast his face in welcome. `Well,' he said faintly.

Peter nodded his agreement.

He gnawed the ragged edge of his thumbnail. `I hate to say this, Petey,' he muttered. `But I think this is starting to be just a little impossible.'

`You're not giving up, are you?' Peter demanded, his cheeks losing their roundness in alarm.

`No,' he replied hastily. `I just... ` He leant his shoulders back against the warm stone. `I can't see a way out,' he admitted. It was a painful thing to say, and frightening. He bit too hard on his thumb, and tasted blood.

`We can't think that way!' Peter pulled off his brown cap and threw it, knocking over a girl's doll a few feet away. `It just +looks+ impossible. Nothing is impossible, Professor Turbute says that all the time. "Peter Pettigrew, nothing is impossible, for if it were, I would say no second year could concoct something as disastrous as what you have in that cauldron."' He lowered his voice and pretended to thrust his belly out. Involuntarily, James smiled at the imitation.

`He is particularly quotable,' he started, and stopped. He grabbed Peter's shoulders tightly. `You know what else he says all the time? Not to get overwhelmed by the big picture. It's the details. And he's right! Peter, we're in the only room with a +door+!'

Peter stared at him. `A door?' he repeated, stuttering.

`A door! And there hasn't been a door invented that can stop James Potter when he really wants to get in or out it!' He shot to his feet and hopped over a wooden drum set and landed with both hands on the curvy wooden surface. Within minutes, his nimble Seeker's fingers discovered what was almost hidden from sight by the clever skill of the carpentry- hinges on the left, and a latch on the right.

Peter rubbed his cheek, nervous and excited both. `What will we do if we get out?'

`The possibilities are endless,' James muttered, not breaking his concentration. The latch refused to move under his prying fingertips; locked. And him with no wand.

`Yes, but you just know that if we get caught...' Peter scuffed the ground with his foot and leaned against the door. `I don't think the faeries believe in detention.'

James sighed, and gave up trying to physically move the latch. `Look. The worst they can do is kill us. Or take our souls or force us into slavery or make us insane. At best, we can escape and go right back to normal at Hogwarts.'

Peter was pasty-faced. James's cavalier attitude often had that affect on him. `Not very good odds,' he whispered.

James looked at him. `No,' he said, after a moment. `No. I guess you're right. Sorry.'

But he didn't stop trying to figure out the latch. Twice he thought he nearly had it, and Peter found a toy hammer among the toys to help. But all he succeeded in doing was picking up a large splinter in his pointer finger, and he fell back on to the hearth, frustrated.

`Maybe we can overpower them when they come to get us next time,' Peter suggested. He played half-heartedly with a bag of marbles, laying out a string in a circle. Idly James plucked one from the bag and gazed through it at the fire.

`Maybe,' he muttered. `I'm a head bigger than Llyke. And they are pretty lightweight.' He sighed, and tossed the glass marble back to the circle. He left the fire and crossed the room to the bed.

`Remus, come out,' he ordered.

One of the pillows moved. `No,' it reported.

He sighed, and kicked off his shoes, and climbed up onto the mattress. The bed creaked and moaned under his weight, and a layer of dust arose that made his nose itch. He crawled across the great expanse and settled by the lump that was the Slytherin.

`I could sure use some help,' he began. He identified a hand, and squinted. `No one's read more than you. And you know more tricks than most fourth years. I bet you know a charm to open an enchanted door.'

The hand twitched. `Not without a wand,' was the muffled reply.

James reached for the top pillow on the pile and threw it away, then two more, and Remus's head appeared, hair wild and eyes red. Remus tried to wrestle the last pillow away from him, but James was stronger and it joined the others on the other end of the bed.

`Now that I have your full attention,' James said, `talk to me.'

Remus was a dark pink with embarrassment. `What about?' he stalled, sitting up and inching away. James caught his wrist and pulled him back.

`Start with what you know about faeries claiming people.'

Remus shook his head, and small feathers from the pillows floated down from his hair. `No one mentioned it,' he said. `Let go please.'

`Not just yet.' James studied Remus carefully, not looking away even when Remus squirmed and tried to free himself again. `Why'd he say you're not fully human?'

`How should I know?' Remus gave him a desperate shove, and managed to knock him over, but James kept his grip and Remus came along, thumping up against the headboard. `Let go!'

`This'll be a lot easier if you just tell me,' James warned, rolling and getting a good headlock on his friend. Remus flailed and landed a decent elbow into the other boy's ribs, but James easily flattened him to the mattress and sat on him. `I don't particularly enjoy beating on you, but I will. Come on. Was it a curse? Did you drink a bad potion when you were a baby? You're no half-giant like that Rubeus Hagrid-`

Remus heaved, but James grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. `Come on, Reemy.'

A pillow flew smack into his face and made him splutter. Peter knelt on the far edge of the bed and rearmed himself. `Stop,' he ordered, though he turned red and winced when James turned on him in shock. `Don't hurt him.'

`I'm not hurting him,' James retorted, but he did loose Remus's arm.

`He can't help it!' Peter scrambled through the rucked-up coverlets. `Let him go, Jamie.'

`Fine!' He crawled backward on his knees and stood clear of Remus's body. He mostly expected it when Remus all but bounded off the bed and ran across the room to bury himself in the deepest corner he could find. It left him feeling a little ashamed; he had seen Remus ran away from bullies the same way, before, and wished he hadn't sat on his friend. But it was too late now.

Peter gave him a look he couldn't decipher, and went to try and coax Remus out through gentler persuasions. He went back with food, and presently James heard them speaking, softly so he couldn't pick out exact words. He sighed, and left the bed, brushing feathers off his leggings, to try the door again.

`Hey,' he called. He ran his fingers over the grooved carvings. All smooth. `You still mad at me?'

There was a pause, and then Remus and Peter came to join him at the door. `I guess not,' Remus replied, his eyes on the wood or on his feet, but never James's face. `Why?'

He was grateful that Remus had followed his lead and allowed the problem of Eflyllon's comment to be dropped peaceably. `I was thinking,' he said. `What's the first thing we do when we find a new hidey-hole or secret passage?'

Peter hazarded, `Explore it?'

`Yeah.' He turned and ruffled Remus's wild hair. `You look like a scarecrow,' he noted. `I know things here are different, but we haven't even gone through all the stuff in here. Who knows but that it might help.'

`I saw some chests back by the bed,' Remus suggested. `I'll take those.'

`Good. I'll search that side-` he pointed. `And Petey, you take those toys over there and sort through `em.'

They came together an hour later, each holding an armful. They sat in a circle and piled their findings.

`Half of the toys are broken,' Peter said, overturning a brightly- coloured box he'd packed a few things into. He lifted a small pocket mirror, and turned it to face James.

`Hahahaha,' it croaked. `Poxy-face. Pimple-nose. Scurvy-`

James covered it with his palm and tossed it away. `Guess we weren't the first to think of a joke mirror.'

Peter's search had revealed three child-sized dolls- `Enough to stuff under the covers, maybe, as a decoy-` and what appeared to be a primitive Remembrall made of inferior green glass. It glowed a feeble red when Peter picked it up. The real treasure was a text book- a Hogwarts textbook. `Charms,' Peter said. `The spells look second year, but some are harder. Plus it's ancient.' He opened the front cover to show yellowed parchment. Written on the flyleaf was `Property of Edgar D. Hadgood, year of 1813.'

James whistled. `You were right,' he told Remus. `You weren't the first at Hogwarts to find that mushroom circle.'

Remus looked as though he somehow felt guilty. But he straightened his shoulders, and pushed forward his finds. `Lots and lots of knitting needles. I guess we could use them as weapons. Lots and lots of clothes and blankets and things. This.' He shook loose a silvery velvet bundle; it was a cloak, and a beautiful one. James fingered the hem with a keen edge of envy in his stomach. `I don't know if it does anything special but it oughtn't stay here. It's too fine.'

James agreed heartily, and took it from Remus's hands. The velvet slid through his fingers as if it were silk, and it was much lighter than he'd thought it would be. He sighed as he laid it across his lap. `This has to be worth a hundred galleons. Two hundred.'

Remus was folding open a leather bag. `Eyeglasses,' he murmured. `And one of those long-distance viewing things.' He held up a spyglass. It was brass, and very very old- it had turned green and was clearly fragile. `Look into it.'

Peter did, and his eyes were very wide. He handed it to James, who lifted took off his glasses and lifted it up to his left eye.

`Home!' he gasped. `That's- I can see my mother!' Suddenly his mouth watered. `She's stuffing a turkey.'

Remus said, `Clearly it shows us where we came from. I saw my house, and I'm guessing Peter saw his. It would be a wonderful gift for a homesick child they were keeping here.'

`Maybe we should leave it, then,' James replied. He lowered the spyglass reluctantly, then placed it back in Remus's pile. His fingers brushed the Remembrall, which had rolled toward him, and it immediately emitted as strong a glow as it had yet. James frowned, and picked it up.

`What did you find?' Peter asked him.

`Oh.' He put the Remembrall out of his mind. `Nothing, really. A lot of dust.' He held up a ring with a large stone. `Dunno. It's cracked, whatever it is.'

Last year a girl named Vanessa Stitch had been unwise enough to put on a ring she found without first ascertaining what it did. It had taken the professors a week to turn her back into a human.

Peter took it from him and scratched a fingernail at the edge of the stone. After a moment it popped out. `Paste and gilt,' he said. `Nothing this cheap would be magical.'

James desultorily turned over the few other items he'd found- mostly jewelry and one pair of cufflinks that looked gold. `Wonder why they leave all this stuff here.'

`It's like he said,' Remus returned. `Arawn called them baubles. And they are, really. Just things with enchantments. No great magic.'

`Well.' James rolled the Remembrall over his knuckles, tossing it up and catching it neatly. `Then I guess we have to...'

Remus raised an eyebrow. `Have to what?'

`What day was it when we left?'

Peter glanced up from where he shifted through the Charms book. `Friday.'

`Friday what?'

`The third,' Remus supplied. The Slytherin took the Remembrall from him; it darkened with a relieved little putter. `What is it?'

He pursed his lips. `We discovered last time that time moves different here, didn't we.' He looked between his two younger friends. `We've been here a lot longer than just that quick rescue trip. Days, by the faeries' count.'

Remus clutched the Remembrall tightly. `You're right.'

`We can't waste any more time then,' Peter said solemnly, and his eyes were wide. `We need to find Sirius.'

James stood, and shook the cloak out before him. `None of this stuff will get us out the door, unfortunately, but let's find a way to have it on us when we do get let out. You never know.' And then, because the velvet felt so cool and wonderful in his hands, he gave in to temptation and swirled it dramatically over his shoulders and pulled it tight around his neck.

Remus gasped and Peter leapt back.

`What?' he demanded, staring at them.

`James, it's an invisibility cloak!' Peter cried.

Quickly he looked down. Surely enough, everything below his neck had disappeared. `Wicked!' Then he gasped. `That's it! This is how we'll get out!' He crouched. `They'll have to open the door at some point. When they do, we'll sneak past them and find Sirius. We'll take all this stuff with us. Remus, I've seen you muttering while they walked us. Have you been memorising every time you were out?'

Remus nodded. He looked doubtful, however. `I know where the sleeping rooms are for sure. I could maybe get us back to the throne room. But if Sirius isn't in either of those places...'

`We'll start with that, at least.' James was thinking very rapidly, and he wasn't at all sure any of his thoughts were good ones. `Maybe we'll overhear something if we hang about. It always happens that way in the books. So we'll start with that, and maybe something will just- come along.'

Peter sighed.

`What?'

`We're all going to die,' was the sad reply.

Remus gripped Peter's knee. `At least we're all together,' he said stoutly. `It would be worse if half of us where still at school and never knew what... happened. It would.'

Peter nodded, but glumly. `I'd druther all of us be at school, then,' he sighed. Then he sat up straight. `Well,' he said, `maybe there's a way to hurry things.' He held up the Charms text. `If we create enough of a disturbance, they'll be sure to come, won't they, Jamie?'

James asked, `Can we do anything without our wands?'

`We all did before we came to Hogwarts,' Remus reasoned. `We're just trained not to let loose big bursts of- of unformed magic.'

`You're right.' He frowned. `I guess it's funny how we forget so quickly. Well- then surely we'll be able to cast any low-level charms.'

`But they may not happen exactly how we want them to.' Remus drew one knee up to his chest. `The whole point of our wands is to give us a focus.' He frowned in concentration, feeling an idea through. `The kinds of things we managed before school were usually- well, always- accompanied by a big outburst, right? Like when we were mad or upset. I overturned a big chest in my room when I was angry at my father once. But I was really angry. I don't know if we need to be really emotional or if that was just a catalyst to get us started.'

He'd long lost James and Peter. `You work on that,' James said. `Let us know, in English, when you come up with anything.' Though James was hardly slow, he'd never been good on theory, and Remus was a great deal deeper than he, anyway. He reached to clap Peter on the shoulder, and had to laugh at the apparently disconnected appearance of his arm. `Petey and I will get everything else ready.'

It took them perhaps a half an hour to arrange the room to James's satisfaction. They'd used the child-sized dolls and a few pillows to stuff the bed, and caused a certain amount of artless wreckage that would suggest their `sleep' was exhausted. Though their clothes had no pockets, they used some of the doll's dresses to hold the things they wanted to keep with them, and tore sheets into strips to tie the little bundles to their stomachs. They fetched Remus once they were ready, and had him hike up his shirt so they could wrap the largest bundle- the book.

Remus kept trying to look at their work, squirming ticklishly and generally making the process much harder. Finally, however, they had the book bound tightly around his pale stomach with several arm's lengths of good linen strips, and when he tucked his shirt back into the trousers, the outline of the book was quite hidden.

`I look fat,' Remus said.

`Hope they don't notice and leave it at that.'

Remus pressed a hand against the book absently as he spoke. `I looked for the messiest magic I thought we could manage,' he explained, perching on the hearth. `There's a charm in there for immunizing against the measles. It's unusual and they might pay attention to it because it's doing something to ourselves, instead of just the room, which I figured they might ignore. I'm still not sure about the emotional stimulation, but we'll know after we try it the first time. Now I'm going to teach it to you. Listen carefully because it's different from what we're used to.'

Remus showed them how to wave their fingers first, as if they were holding a wand. `Concentrate on your hand as the centre of your focus,' he told them. `No, don't swish so much, Peter. Like this.' And then he taught them the rhyme- no Latin, for this was `a real charm they way the hedgewitches do them.' When he was satisfied they knew what they were doing, he fell silent and waited for James to take the lead.

`I hate to say this,' James said. `I think we ought to try and do this underneath the cloak. We know they can somehow apparate without saying a word. They could be here before we have a chance to dive for cover.'

Neither boy protested. It was fortunate that both Remus and Peter had yet to hit any growth spurts, for it made it easier for all three of them to fit beneath the cloak and have enough room to complete the gestures. It was still hot and awkward, however.

`Ready?' James asked. `Remember, don't make a noise once they get here and everyone walk in step.'

`Ready,' Peter and Remus echoed. James gave the signal, and they moved their right hands in rhythm and recited:

`By the power of my saying, With sickness I'll not be laying, Here the illness I am slaying No price of death will I be paying.'

James couldn't feel a thing- no tingle, no release, no indication that it had worked. Peter was clearly confused, but Remus let out a shaky breath as if he had just moved something very heavy, and he wiped sweat from his forehead.

No one said anything, aware that Remus's success might draw the elves. The wait seemed to take forever, and each of them grew tenser and tenser. Just when James was about to admit that it hadn't worked, however- the door opened.

`Pwy rwyt ti'n gredu?' It was a feminine voice- Llyke, James thought, and was very glad indeed for the cloak.

`Neb,' another said. Remus's faerie, Eflyllon. He sounded oddly sullen, and James found himself wondering if Arawn had decided to grant Llyke's claim.

He nudged the other boys, and they began to creep very slowly toward the door. Let it be open, James thought, let them have left it open. He hadn't thought that what he would do if they hadn't left it open.

But luck was with them. It had swung nearly shut, but the latch hadn't locked. He looked over his shoulder at the two faeries- who were now clearly arguing and moving toward the bed- and made sure his hand was covered as he reached to inch open the door. He held his breath- and then they were through, and in the hallway. James pulled the door shut again behind him.

The darkness was absolute, except for a tiny sliver coming from the room behind them. `All right, Reemy,' he whispered. `You lead.' He heard Remus draw a deep breath. And then they were walking- or shuffling. It was slow going, and he heard Remus counting under his breath.

It was all going extremely well, he thought, and allowed himself a little sigh of relief. It made sense that, at that moment, they ran into Arawn and,

`Sirius!' Peter hissed.

James closed his eyes. Damn, he thought.


End file.
